Snow
by Fae Princess
Summary: A Romance during Harry's 6th year. During the Christmas Holidays Harry gives Hermione a special Gift which turns out to be a lot more than either he or Hermione ever bargained for. HHr COMPLETED
1. Hot Cocoa, among other things

***

  
  
Chapter Two: Hot Cocoa, Among Other Things  
  
It was amazing, really, how silent the entire Hogwarts castle seemed to be. Professors remained secluded in their offices or private chambers (as Harry assumed) and very few students trudged along the halls, looking for something to do.  
  
The Gryffindor common room was especially silent, as Hermione and Harry made themselves comfortable on the large red sofa that faced the roaring fire. Mugs of hot cocoa, as promised, sat on a tray, on the small round table on either side of the sofa.  
  
Hermione took slow sips, her eyes getting lost in the flickering flames, her mind traveling to the young man that sat next to her. Harry's attention, however, was completely focused on the brunette beside him. She was troubled about something, he knew, yet she seemed to be avoiding the topic all together. Did she not trust him enough? How could he prove to her that all he wanted to do was to help? He wanted, above everything else, for her to trust and love him.  
  
He knew she loved him as a friend. That was evident. He had realized that over the years, as their friendship developed, that he and Hermione were closer than he and Ron. It was a strange thought, considering Harry had shared a room with Ron for nearly six full years, including most summers. But still, there were certain 'things' in his friendship with Hermione that he had to take into account than that of Ron's.  
  
He could very well have been biased in this topic, upon realising that there was no doubt that he had fallen in love with Hermione. Three years ago this matter would have been laughable, and in fact it was. Even now he couldn't help but scoff. Not because it was impossible to love the brown-eyed beauty, but because he knew, deep down that it was nearly impossible for her to love him back. Harry Potter was a danger to anyone and everyone close to him. It was no secret, and he worried constantly for Ron and Hermione's safety.  
  
"What?" he asked aloud, suddenly realizing that Hermione had spoken. He drew his thoughts from bitter death to the topic at hand.  
  
"I said --who do you think is going to be Head Boy and Girl next year?" Hermione repeated.  
  
"Oh." Harry thought a moment, realizing Hermione was making a half attempt at gossip. "You are definitely making Head Girl, there's no way they'd never give that to you," Harry replied honestly. Hermione gave a modest smile, her ears going slightly pink.  
  
"I hope you're Head Boy," she said softly, her brown eyes wide and hopeful. He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head slowly.  
  
"Are you mad? With my record...I'm surprised I haven't been expelled," he said.  
  
"You deserve to be Head Boy, Harry. You've been through so much."  
  
"Only because I was stupid enough to put myself in danger Hermione...that was my own fault," he reminded her.  
  
"You are so stubborn, Harry. You didn't ask for Voldemort to… kill your parents, and… try to murder you countless times. I-- what?" she asked, with growing impatience.  
  
His bright emerald eyes had widened, his mouth forming a small 'O'.  
  
"What, Harry?" she demanded.  
  
"You said his name...Voldemort...I...I've never heard you say his name before," he said, and she realized that it wasn't that he was shocked, he was just impressed.  
  
"What? Do you mean to say there can only be one brave enough to say his name?" she asked, quite coyly.  
  
He grinned, and ran a hand through his hair, and she got a brief glimpse of the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.  
  
"That's not what I meant...I'm relieved, more or less, that you don't flinch when you hear his name. It makes me edgy when people get so uptight when hearing it."  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed disapprovingly.  
  
"They have a right to be afraid, Harry. Don't belittle them that fear. Just because you've survived his wrath many times, doesn't mean they are necessarily safe," she told him sternly.  
  
"I'm no safer, Hermione," he told her calmly.  
  
"Explain how you've dodged death since you were a year old again? You'd think by now...you'd be..." she cut off her sentence suddenly. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to feel the pain, fear and panic that came when she knew he was facing the great and powerful Dark Lord.  
  
He shrugged and looked back into the orange, red and yellow flames that flickered restlessly.  
  
"Luck," was his only answer, though in the back of his mind he did wonder how it happened.  
  
Battle after battle. Was it chance? Or were his mother and father looking out for him, protecting him with every ounce of their after life? He would never know, so it seemed. After six years, he wondered if he would ever learn the truth, if there was a truth. He and Hermione weren't the only ones who questioned Harry's own mortality. Practically every student in the school looked at him curiously, when something was amiss. Nowadays, a lot of them looked to him for protection and comfort, and Hermione hated that more than anything. The way everyone gawked at him, even after all these years, it was as though everyone thought Harry belonged in a museum.  
  
"Do you sometimes miss the Muggle world? When we're here, Harry?" Hermione asked, quickly changing the subject.  
  
This was a topic they could both focus on, as they both grew up in the Muggle world, and both found out they were a wizard and witch at the age of 11. The only difference between the two, was that Harry's parents were both wizard and witch, while Hermione's parents were both Muggles. This was another reason that had put Hermione at risk, as Voldemort and his supporters firmly believed that only pure blood wizards and witches should exist.  
  
"Not really. My life, as you know, wasn't exactly anything to brag about," he replied thoughtfully.  
  
She turned her gaze to him, carefully setting down her empty mug.  
  
"I really love you, you know," she told him, her voice thick with emotion. Indeed, her vision blurred with tears and she hastily wiped away a trickling tear.  
  
"Oh...Hermione..." and before another word he quickly wrapped both arms around her, and she eagerly mimicked him, holding as tight as she could, letting her head rest on the comfort of his shoulder.  
  
"I love you too…so much," he said softly, kicking himself for not insisting it was a different kind of love he was feeling.  
  
He was content enough with this though, and found comfort in the warmth she gave off. It was a warmth that not even a bright fire could give. It filled him from every dark corner in his body, his mind and his soul. It was a warmth that would live with him forever.  
  
"I don't want to lose you," she sobbed into his thick blue sweater, and he realized that she was crying.  
  
"Shhh..." Harry soothed. "You'll never lose me...we're too much apart of each other," he whispered into her chestnut hair. He resumed to rocking her back and forth, eager to calm her down, though not so eager to leave the comfort of her arms.  
  
"That's not a promise you can keep, Harry. I don't know what I'd do...if…" she had lifted her head to meet his gaze and he cut off her sentence by placing an index finger on her lips, silencing her.  
  
"It's a promise I can keep, and I will. Nothing will happen to you, to me, or to Ron. I swear it." His eyes searched hers, desperate to make her believe in him. He needed her to trust him, to believe him. During this time, they needed to stick together.  
  
She nodded reluctantly, slowly, trusting in him. She needed him more than she had ever needed anything in her life. And he would never know. But he seemed forceful in his promise, and she wanted to believe in his promise, and in him.  
  
"That's my girl," he said, placing of gentle kiss on her forehead.  
  
Suddenly the mood had passed, and an increasing discomfort filled the room.  
  
"We are so morbid," she finally said, breaking into a fit of giggles along with Harry. It was the only thing they could do and they were eager, to yet again, change the subject.  
  
"Schoolwork it is!" Hermione announced jovially, bounding up her dormitory steps, to retrieve books, Harry expected.  
  
If Voldemort didn't kill him soon, he would surely die of boredom by Hermione's hand, he thought miserably. He grudgingly went up to his own room, reflecting on the love of his life, and his heart gave a nervous, excited flutter when he remembered that the next day would be Christmas Day.  
  
He couldn't wait to see the look on Hermione's face when she opened his gift.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**  



	2. Winter Wonderland

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, characters, and all related names and phrases are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. This is a fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
  


***

  
Chapter One: Winter Wonderland  
  
  
She was supposed to be studying, that much was true. But when the stillness and the quietness of the room surrounded her, and the warmth of the fire warmed her to the very core, there was only one thing she could do: enjoy it. It wasn't every day Hermione Granger got the common room all to herself. She had her Arithmancy book scattered on the sofa to her left, bits of blank parchment scattered to her right. She had gotten so caught up in her deep thoughts that she hadn't even notice a certain raven haired boy with emerald eyes walking in. She didn't know how long he had been standing there, trying to get her attention, but it finally worked, and her head shot up to meet his bright green eyes. And it was over. She was no longer alone to bask in her spare moments with the common room.  
  
"What is it Harry?" she asked him, because all he had done so far was just look down at her, a mischievous grin spreading across his handsome, young face.  
  
"I want you to come with me," he said, holding out a hand to her.  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm busy Harry, schoolwork and such." She was mostly afraid of finding out what that mischievous grin meant. He shook his head fervently though, still holding out an insisting hand.  
  
"You have been sitting there for 45 minutes Hermione, and you haven't even looked at your book. Besides, it's Christmas, and all the kids are gone. None of _them_ will be doing their work."  
  
She only shrugged. "Their grades aren't my problem," and she sighed, knowing that she would never win with Harry Potter.  
  
True, the kids were all gone, which was partly the reason Hermione had the common room to herself at that moment. Even Ron had gone home, since both of his brothers were back for Christmas, (which was a rarity) and though Ron had insisted on staying, Hermione and Harry wouldn't hear of it. Hermione had stayed for Harry, in truth. She had told him it was because her parents had gone on vacation to visit her distant cousin, but Harry knew better. He was only too happy to have Hermione there with him.  
  
She let him pull her up, making sure he got the point that she didn't want to leave her schoolwork, and followed him out of the Portrait of the Fat Lady, but not before Harry grabbed her winter robes, mitts and scarf.  
  
"You'll want these," he told her.  
  
So she knew he wanted to take her outside.  
  
With a cautious step beside Harry, Hermione wondered why Harry would want to take her outside, when she was perfectly satisfied with staying indoors, in front of a warm fire, and the seclusion of the common room.  
  
Together they made their way downstairs, Harry's steps so light, Hermione feared that he would bounce to the high ceilings. They stepped into the Entrance Hall, and Harry pushed open the great oak doors to a sight that made Hermione's face split into a gigantic smile.  
  
Gasping at the sight in front of her, Hermione's heart gave an excited flutter. Snow always did this to her. Christmas just wasn't Christmas without snow. And sure enough the entire grounds and roofs of the castle were covered in thick layers of pure white snow.  
  
"It's beautiful," she sighed, as they stepped further out onto the grounds.  
  
"You've been stuck in the common room for so long, I knew you had no idea it had snowed. I know how much it means to you," Harry said. Looking through the corner of his eye he could see just how much she loved snow. She looked like a 10-year-old child again, instead of the 16-year-old young woman she now was. He grinned at her expression.  
  
"It's wonderful. This is just amazing! I was wondering if we would have a white Christmas or not," she said tearfully. Indeed, snow meant this much to her.  
  
He grabbed onto her hand and led her to the middle of the Quidditch Pitch.  
  
She looked at him suddenly, feeling giddier than she had ever felt.  
  
"Harry, thank you," she said softly, yet again ticking off the reasons why he was so amazing, and why she would always carry a secret infatuation for him. Because that was all it was, just a crush, but at the age of 16 the word 'crush' sounded so juvenile. There just was no other word for it. Certainly she wasn't in love with him. And certainly, she would never tell him. That would just be absurd. Half the school was in love with Harry Potter.  
  
_But half the school doesn't know Harry the way you do, Hermione_, a voice in her head reminded her.  
  
She shook her head, getting rid of traveling thoughts. She would not reflect on her feelings for Harry, while she was standing there with him.  
  
As she thought this she was suddenly twirling. Harry had taken the liberty of putting her hand in his, his left hand resting on the small of her back, and her right hand rested on his shoulder. They looked like they could be waltzing, but instead they were spinning. He was twirling her around and she finally realized that she could be innocent and free with Harry. He was, after all, her best friend.  
  
She let her head fall back slightly, watching the trees and castle whirl by, also covered in a silvery sheet of snow. She giggled. Light and free was what she felt. Never had she felt so lighthearted, so exhilarated...so...in love. She couldn't decide whether to be ecstatic with the revelation or utterly depressed. She knew it was true...knew it like she knew herself. But she had spent 6 long years trying to deny it. True, at the age of 11 she had been way too young to think of such a thing. But at the age of 11 she had considered it a silly crush. She had believed it so well that she was convinced that was all it was. Year after year in went on like that. And now, underneath a bright blue sky, with the sun shining down warmth on them, with the thick snow crunching beneath their feet, she could finally admit she was in love with Harry Potter. She didn't bother to argue with herself this time...The usual 'You're only 16 Hermione...what would you know about love?' fled from her mind, never to be heard again.  
  
She realized with a sudden jolt that they had stopped spinning, and that Harry was staring down at her, the same grin playing on his lips, his bright green eyes twinkling with amusement.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" he asked. She looked down and realized his hand was still on her back, her hand was still in his hand, that she was dipped over, her back arching, and that he was leaning over her.  
  
She gave what she thought was an innocent smile and struggled out of his grasp.  
  
"N-nothing," she stammered, for once losing the composure she was born with.  
  
This time his eyes narrowed, the grin slightly wavering.  
  
"You don't honestly think I believe that. Come on, Hermione, talk to me," he prodded gently.  
  
_Tick, another reason to love him, Hermione_, the voice told her.  
  
She grinned. "I was just thinking of what a good friend you are Harry. And I love you for that," she admitted; though it was a different kind of love that she was referring to. But Harry, she reminded herself, would never know that.  
  
His eyes widened to saucers beneath his round glasses.  
  
"You can't be serious," he said, his voice coming out barely more than a whisper. This time Hermione grew serious and she forced her own brown eyes to look directly in his.  
  
Maybe if he looked hard enough he would see what she really wanted to tell him. Would he be able to see her heart and soul in her eyes? Her heart was beating furiously, almost painfully. The excitement that she could tell him increasing slightly. She wanted to tell him, and she didn't want to tell him. Would he think of her as an idiot, a silly fool, for believing herself to be in love? Had _he_ ever been in love?  
  
"I've never been more serious Harry. But does that really surprise you? You know you're a wonderful friend," she told him.  
  
"No, the truth of it is that I feel I owe you so much. You've been there for me, for me and Ron," he added hastily, "more times than I can count. I sometimes feel so out of your league, wondering how in the world I ever became friends with you. After 6 years I've finally realized how much you mean to me. Not just our friendship, but you. So many times I could have lost you, and Ron," he added again.  
  
The effect was lost. For a brief, fleeting moment, she thought he was pouring out his heart. In a way he was. It just wasn't the part that she wanted. She wanted him to love her, naturally. But he kept mentioning Ron...and she knew it would never happen.  
  
She forced a smile and wrapped her slender arms around him, her head fitting comfortably where his shoulder and neck met. She felt his own strong and powerful arms encircle her, pulling her closer, just like she wanted him to. They stood like that for what seemed forever. It was much longer than a hug should have been, and Hermione was far too elated to reflect on its implications. She just wanted to be there, with him, even just as a friend.  
  
"We should head back you know, school work and whatnot," she finally said, and regretted saying it.  
  
He pulled back and nodded in agreement, the bright twinkle in his eyes suddenly gone, his steps not as light, his grin not as mischievous.  
  
"Hot chocolate?" she asked brightly, trying to cheer him up. She didn't know what she had done, didn't know why his mood had shifted considerably. She only knew that she didn't want him to be upset. And so like the good friend she wanted to be, she held fast to his hand, leading him up to the castle, with promises of a warm fire and a warm drink.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**  
  



	3. Lady of the Ring

Chapter Three: Lady of the Ring  
  
  
Christmas day.  
  
It couldn't have happened on a more glorious and magical day. The sun, bright and cheerful as it was, filtered happily through the curtains of Harry's practically empty dorm room. He groaned sleepily, at this point not completely realizing that it was in fact, Christmas day. Hermione, however, wasted no time in rushing to his dorm, from her own practically empty dorm room (add two First year Gryffindor girls) to wake Harry with fervent excitement.  
  
"I'm up! Please...just stop jumping on my bed!" cried Harry. He sat up and reached for the glasses that Hermione held in her hand. View coming into focus, he could see she was still in her nightclothes.  
  
"What are you wearing?" he asked curiously, as a heat rose to his cheeks, noticing it wasn't her regular nightdress that she used to wear, back in her first years at Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione blushed a pale pink color, suddenly very self-conscious of what she wore. It wasn't anything bad, she knew. But it wasn't exactly something you'd wear in front of a boy. A boy you were in love with, no less. Yellow pajama bottoms with a draw-string, blue and red kittens scattered up and down the legs of the p.j's. A bright yellow tank top to match, with a bright red cartoon kitten drawn on the front. It was tight fitting, and it showed more skin than she normally would care to show.  
  
"I normally put on a robe...but I forgot in the excitement of CHRISTMAS DAY, you dolt," she replied defensively. He only grinned and threw down the covers of his bed, swinging his long legs over the edge.  
  
"I was just asking, Hermione. I like them. They're cute," he told her, and grinned at the rising color in her cheeks.  
  
"I didn't come here to discuss my style in night-clothes, Harry Potter. Merry Christmas," she greeted, pulling him up into a hug.  
  
"Same to you, Hermione. Shall we go downstairs?" he asked.  
  
"I'll meet you down there, I still have to get your gift. I left it in my room," she told him and before he could say anything, she was gone. Which left him to grab her gift, and not for the first time since he bought it, he worried that she may not like it.  
  
_Too late now, Potter...let's go,_ he told himself firmly. Staying in his own p.j's, Harry exited his dorm.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Harry!" greeted one of the First years Harry recognized as Mercedes.  
  
Harry had cringed when he found out that he would be the only male left in the Gryffindor House. Hermione and Ron had found it immensely amusing, as they had burst into fits of laughter at Harry's horrified expression.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Mercedes" he returned, perching himself in front of the fire, ignoring the giggling of the two first years at the opposite end of the room.  
  
The rushed pounding of feet let Harry know that Hermione had returned and she had a rather thick package with her.  
  
"This is for you," she told him, rather shyly. Like Harry, she was terrified he wouldn't appreciate her gift, and the trouble she went through to make it.  
  
He accepted the thick package, immediately assuming it was another book. She thrived at handing out books as presents.  
  
He tore and ripped at the beautifully wrapped present, and Hermione had to giggle. Right now she couldn't care less about the paper, and moreso enjoyed the expression on his face. So many lost years he had suffered, with no parents to turn to for comfort, for presents on his birthday or Christmas...The lost years showed clearly on his face. The childish eagerness that she found so endearing, so wonderfully innocent, made her heart thump painfully against her ribcage, knowing that only love could make her feel this way.  
  
"Oh...Hermione..."  
  
The sigh that had escaped Harry let Hermione know that he had reached the gift.  
  
Not one, but two leather bound photo albums lay on his lap. One was a deep velvety green, the other a deep crimson. He was flipping through the first one labeled "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry: Years 1-3". She already knew what photos were in the album, as she had spent months and months constructing this project. It had taken her a lot of time finding photos of his first years. That was the particular difficulty of her task. Luckily, Professor Dumbledore had many photos for her to collect. How he came across them, she did not know, and nor did she ask.  
  
The second album labeled "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Years 4-6" was a little easier to achieve, because at that point in their lives she had taken to photography. Memories were most important, and she knew they meant the world to Harry.  
  
"Hermione...it's perfect," he whispered, running a hand over the moving pictures. She had even managed to take one of him catching the Golden Snitch.  
  
"I figured you needed something to look back on once we're done school," she told him modestly, secretly jumping for joy.  
  
"It's the most amazing gift you've ever given me. And that counts for a lot," he added, remembering the present she had given him for his thirteenth birthday.  
  
She smiled as he gave her a hug, and he slipped her gift from him into the palm of her hands.  
  
It was a smaller package, one that could fit a piece of jewelry. Her eyes shot up to him excitedly. Would he dare to give her jewelry? The thought was just too sweet to bear. She wasn't very fond of jewelry, and rarely ever wore it. But she had a feeling that she'd wear anything Harry gave her, whether she hated it or not.  
  
She tore open the package, trying to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to scare away Harry with her excitement.  
  
The case was small and round, covered in a soft material, softer than velvet, and in a deep blue.  
  
Her head buzzing with excitement, she opened the case delicately, and gasped at the contents.  
  
"It's a Friendship ring," he explained, feeling completely silly. Of course she would think it was a ridiculous gift. Jewelry…_Man, you know she hates jewelry_.  
  
"Harry...oh...it's...it's beautiful" she blurted, her heart thumping like never before. Lifting it out she examined it by the light of the fire. A rather large band of silver and gold that was looped through a silver chain.  
  
"You don't wear it on your finger, you wear it around your neck," Harry explained, going into full detail of the ring.  
  
"When you wear it, it links you to me. When you're in trouble, I'll know. No matter where you are, or who's with you. Even Voldemort can't take it from you. Once it's around your neck, only the owner, which would be you, can take it off."  
  
At this point Hermione was examining the inside of the ring where encrypted against the marble ring it said "H/H, friends 4ever".  
  
Her eyes burned from the tears that threatened to fall.  
  
"I've never heard of this kind of ring before...where did you get it?" she asked suddenly, her face showing immense pleasure, mingled with curiosity.  
  
"Uh..." he stammered. "Er...in Hogsmeade...I um, went to a shop and had it custom made," he replied rather shyly.  
  
"Harry...I can't...it must have cost you such a fortune...this ring is far too magnificent..."  
  
"I made it for you Hermione. Cost has never been an issue. _You_ have been my issue. Your safety. I want to be able to protect you, even when I'm not around," he told her.  
  
Hermione's brown eyes shimmered with the tears as she fought to control them.  
  
"Harry, you're life isn't dedicated to protecting me," she said softly, a single hand reaching out to move a stray hair that had sprung up, knowing there was no use battling with his ever messy hair. His hand moved up to hold hers, his eyes deeply penetrating her own.  
  
"I love it, Harry… This...it's the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me," she finally said, and realized that it was the truth. Eagerly unclasping the chain she reached over her own head to fasten it. Her thick, bushy hair got in the way though, and Harry eagerly rose to the occasion.  
  
He sat behind her and grabbed both ends of the chain as she pulled her hair to the side, leaving the back of her shoulders to neck completely exposed. Harry held in a raspy breath, his heart speeding too fast, as he reluctantly fastened the ends. He didn't want to step away from her, didn't want to lose the vision of exposed skin.   
  
Hell. He wanted her.  
  
_Ah, the subtle difficulties of being a hormonal 16 year old boy,_ he mentally sighed. He groaned inwardly. Never having a father to ask questions, he didn't really know to expect this kind of physical reaction to the woman he loved. He daringly let his index finger smooth over her exposed skin, slightly, and Hermione shivered under his brief touch. She didn't want Harry to stop, the feeling of him touching her bare skin was more than she had ever hoped for.  
  
"Breakfast guys! It's Christmas! The professors are waiting!" cried the other spare first year named Lucinda.  
  
Harry snapped his hand away, and Hermione jumped up, the ring around her neck now a new addition to her look.  
  
"Hey...cool ring! Good going, Harry!" Mercedes quickly joined in, and Lucinda quickly nodded with agreement.  
  
They both winked at a blushing Harry and quickly ushered themselves through the portrait hole.  
  
"Time to get changed, I expect," Harry said unenthusiastically.  
  
Hermione nodded, picking up the remains of wrapping paper, equally as disapointed as Harry.  
  
What would have happened had they been left alone? Harry shook himself of these thoughts, and watched Hermione as she mechanically picked up the Christmas wrapping.   
"I'll meet you back down here in five minutes," she promised, before heading up to her own dorms.  
  
Harry would have made it to his own dorm room, had he not taken a glimpse outside the common room window. He gave a startled gasp, pressing his face against the cold glass.  
  
"Hermione!" he shouted, not daring to look away from the glass.  
  
"What? What is it?" Hermione wondered, shooting back downstairs. She hadn't even made to her own dorms when she heard him shout.  
  
He pointed. Could she see what he saw?  
  
The question was quickly answered when a gasp, identical to his own, escaped her mouth.  
  
"It can't be!" she groaned.  
  
There, down in the pure white snow, underneath the very window they were staring out of, sat a large black dog with pale eyes.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**  



	4. Christmas Warnings

Chapter Four: Christmas Warnings  
  
  
"I saw him, Hermione! You did, too," insisted Harry, after throwing on a robe over his p.j's, and Hermione had done the same.  
  
Instantly, Harry was yanking Hermione through the portrait hole, down the silent corridors, down the stairs and out into the courtyard, towards the same wing as the Gryffindor tower.  
  
The black dog was gone. Groaning in frustration Harry continued searching the grounds.  
  
"He couldn't have gotten far...he was _right here_!" he shouted, pointing at the spot he had seen the bear-sized dog known as Padfoot.  
  
"Harry...maybe it wasn't him..." Hermione suggested softly. She didn't want to upset Harry.  
  
"You saw him too, Hermione! I know you did," Harry repeated, his eyes wide with confusion as he seethed with worry and anger.  
  
"You know he's not allowed around here...the Ministry is still after him," Hermione gently reminded Harry.  
  
"I saw Sirius. He was here," Harry said, not backing down. The fact that he had spotted his godfather was enough to make him obsessed with finding him.  
  
Hermione sighed. She loved Harry, and so with that thought alone she chose to agree with him, to once again, go against the law and look for the innocent escapee from Azkaban.  
  
They didn't have to wonder far though, because the sound of heavy footsteps reached their ears.  
  
"Stop," Harry whispered, raising an arm to block her.  
  
"Jeez, Harry, you and your insistent nature to prove everyone wrong," came a familiar masculine voice.  
  
"Sirius!" Harry shouted gleefully, throwing himself at the now human formed Sirius Black.  
  
The older man hugged his godson, beaming at him and then at Hermione.  
  
"You both look so much older...Merry Christmas to you both," he greeted, sending a wink to Hermione. She smiled in return, also finding herself wrapped in a large hug.  
  
"What are you doing here, Sirius? You're not supposed to be seen," Hermione warned him, yet again for the hundredth time.  
  
Sirius gave a hearty laugh.  
  
"Like I said, Merry Christmas," he repeated, grinning widely at both of them.  
  
In turn, Hermione and Harry exchanged looks of pure confusion.  
  
"How does that answer our question?" Harry asked.  
  
Sirius shook his head from side to side, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
Then Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"You've been cleared?" he breathed, watching Sirius's face turn from mischief to pure happiness.  
  
"Why haven't we heard anything about it!?" Hermione shouted gleefully.  
  
"It's supposed to be a surprise. It's a long story, but in short… Pettigrew has been caught. A poor blunder on his part, but for the past few months now I've been kept busy trying to clear my own name. I suppose it helped that Pettigrew came clean. I'm surprised really, that he admitted to everything. It's been a long trial," he sighed.  
  
"So that means you can stay here at the castle...at least for Christmas?" Harry said.  
  
This had to be one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him. Sirius was cleared. He would actually have a home to go to for the holidays. Providing Sirius still wanted him.  
  
Sirius gave another sigh, and shook his head.  
  
"I'm afraid not, Harry. Though my name's been cleared, there are many people that are terrified of me. Until people learn the truth, I must remain incognito. Even the professors here at the school don't trust me, yet. It will all change, I have faith that it will. But until then...I'm sorry, Harry, Hermione. That's the reason I came here, that--and another reason."  
  
"What?" asked Hermione, also disappointed that Sirius would not be staying.  
  
"Now that Pettigrew has been caught, it's caused quite a trifle among the Death Eaters...more so involving Voldemort . I came to warn you, Harry," Sirius glanced meaningfully at Hermione. "I hate to say it...but right now it's not exactly the best thing to have Muggles for parents, especially when you're Harry Potter's best friend," he finally said.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened, and a new form of panic clutched at her.  
  
"Harry…"  
  
"What are you saying, Sirius? That Voldemort is after Hermione?" Harry asked, fury being easily detected in the tone of his voice. His emerald eyes took on a fierce look.  
  
Sirius nodded slowly, understanding very well the anger Harry felt. Sirius had felt it on more than one occasion.  
  
"Harry...I..." Hermione choked, trying to fight back a sob. She wanted to be brave like Harry. She did _not_ want him to feel responsible for her life. He had his own to worry about.  
  
"It's not going to happen, Hermione. I promise. Remember the ring I gave you? Don't ever remove it," Harry whispered as he pulled her into a comforting hug.  
  
Sirius watched them both with mild admiration and amusement. _So that's how it is..._  
  
They reminded him vaguely of Lily and James, Harry's own parents.  
  
"Good for you, Harry. You gave her the Friendship ring. You'll be well protected with that, Hermione," Sirius told her, catching a glimpse of the silver and gold ring that lay within her robes.  
  
"But I'm not his responsibility...I have to learn to defend myself," she insisted, feeling very much like a child.  
  
"You can't do it on your own, Hermione. Harry is probably the only one who can protect you," Sirius said, keeping to himself how to work the very powerful and magnificent ring. He turned to Harry. "Her wearing the ring will not be enough, I'm afraid. It takes much more than that," he said.  
  
"Well... what?" asked Harry, not completely sure what Sirius was getting at.  
  
"That, I'm afraid, will be for you to find out. I must leave you two, and return to Hogsmeade," he told them.  
  
"Do you have to?" whined Harry, and they all laughed.  
  
"Soon, Harry, we'll have our own house. I'll be able to look out for you, take responsibility for you, and fulfill my duty to you as godfather."  
  
Harry's smile brightened and he nodded furiously.  
  
"Thank you, Sirius. For everything," Harry said, again giving him a quick hug, not at all ashamed that he was a 16 year old teenager, hugging a grown man. Hermione followed suite and they waved goodbye as Sirius transformed to his Animigi self, the large black dog, and he ran at high speed towards the direction of Hogsmeade.  
  
"That was informative," Harry finally said, as they trudged through the snow back to the Hogwarts castle.  
  
"I imagine we missed breakfast," Hermioe sighed as they stepped into the Entrance Hall, and up the steps to their tower.  
  
"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, a word please."  
  
Harry and Hermione spun around to find Professor Dumbledore behind them. His bright blue eyes twinkled beneath his half moon spectacles, and a smile curved his lips beneath his abnormally long beard.  
  
"Happy Christmas Professor," greeted Hermione, automatically smiling at the wonderful Headmaster.  
  
"And to you both," he replied, taking a few leisurely steps toward them.  
  
He smiled back and forth between Harry and Hermione and he motioned for them to follow him.  
  
"I know why you both missed breakfast," he said, cutting right to the point. This was no surprise to the both of them, and they were not afraid that Dumbledore had known that they had been talking with Sirius. Dumbledore was one of the few that believed Sirius to be innocent, and was also the one that had allowed Harry to speak with his only worth-speaking-to relative.  
  
"We're sorry about that, Professor, but it was necessary," Harry quickly apologized.  
  
Dumbledore quickly waved a hand to dismiss the apology, the smile and twinkle in his eyes not faltering.  
  
"I was merely addressing the subject, to bring up a most grave of circumstances," he said softly, his blue eyes focusing on Hermione. She looked to Harry uneasily, the panic suddenly returning.  
  
"It's alright, Professor. Harry gave me this." Hermione then produced the ring from under her robes.  
  
"Ah, the Friendship ring. Excellent. Always trust Harry Potter to come up with such a clever idea. The fun part will be finding out how to work it," Dumbledore said.  
  
Hermione crossed her brows in confusion.  
  
"I thought, Harry, that you said you had it custom-made," she said, turning to her best friend.  
  
"That he did, Hermione. The Friendship ring is a rare object, so rare in fact, that Harry could not find one on his own. So he took it upon himself to have it custom-made," Dumbledore explained. He looked to Harry, raising a quizzical brow. "Am I right?" he asked.  
  
Harry's nervous glance to Dumbledore faded once Hermione looked to him for confirmation. He nodded, pushing down the lump in his throat.  
  
"I suggest you grab some food, before it is left to go bad," Dumbledore said, ending the conversation. Harry grinned, knowing that food in this castle could never go bad.  
  
"Thank you, Professor. We will," Hermione answered as Dumbledore strode gracefully down the corridor and out of sight.  
  
Harry turned to the woman that meant more to him than life itself, and held out an elbow. She looped her arm through his.  
  
"Shall we, Milady?" he drawled. Hermione giggled and nodded, turning her head to hide a blush.  
  
A question remained unanswered to them both, silent, yet thunderous: How exactly did the ring work?  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**


	5. By the Light of the Fire

Chapter Five: By the Light of the Fire  
  
  
The snow was coming down harder. They were the same large flakes as earlier, only now a blustery cold wind joined in on the fun, and when Hermione glanced outside the common room window, she couldn't help but shiver. Glad she was, that she was inside. But she was sure the shiver had a lot more to do with the sense of foreboding that lurked in the recesses of her mind. Could Voldemort really come looking for her?  
  
Was she really safe as long as Harry was around? She had never doubted him before, and she wasn't going to start now.  
  
"Now what are you thinking about?" came the sweet voice that Hermione loved to hear.  
  
She eagerly pulled herself from morbid thoughts and looked up to meet Harry's emerald eyes.  
  
"Nothing. Just the snow," she said and stepped away from the window towards the fire where he sat. "I see you haven't got any work done,"she said briskly.  
  
"Hermione, it's Christmas. You've _got_ to be kidding me," he tossed back, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
Hermione only sighed and looked longingly into the fire.  
  
"Not much of a talker, are you Hermione?" he asked in a rhetorical tone, noticing how beautiful her face looked when reflecting the flames of the fire.  
  
"Oh...I suppose I've got things on my mind. Nothing to worry about," she added, not wanting Harry to ask questions.  
  
Harry didn't ask questions, though. He knew that if Hermione really wanted to talk, she would.  
  
She watched as he stood up and stretched, and without knowing why, she stood up with him.  
  
"I've got this idea..." she said, and Harry suddenly realized that she was distinctly shy about what she was going to say.  
  
"I'm listening," he said, raising his brows in confusion.  
  
"Well, it being Christmas and all, and since your dorm room is empty, and so is mine...I thought we could share a room. Like maybe I could take Ron's bed or something, or you could take Lavender's," she said hurriedly.  
  
This shocked Harry. He even took a step back, his face now switching to a look of bewilderment.  
  
"We don't have to… it's just… It's really lonely being all by myself," she added, mistaking his look of shock for look of horror.  
  
"I'd love it," he blurted. "We'll take my room. Since you've got Lucinda and Mercedes in your dormitories. Are you sure about that? I mean, that'd be breaking the rules, wouldn't it?" he reminded her.  
  
A small wicked grin spread across her lips, and his heart jumped.  
  
"Like that's ever stopped me before, Harry. And if you're lucky, I just might wear my new p.j's..." she said softly, enjoying the look of shock on his face as it increased.  
  
"My, my, Hermione. I never thought you had it in you," he said, shaking his head from side to side.  
  
Her eyebrows crossed.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"You're flirting. Ah, but that's OK," he quickly added when he saw her eyes shooting daggers at him. "It's not you're fault after all...a babe magnet such as myself," he sighed dramatically.  
  
Hermione punched him playfully in the arm. "My, aren't we full of ourselves today. Don't press your luck, Potter," she said before punching him again.  
  
He laughed and grabbed her arm before she could land a third punch. "I'd watch it if I were you, Hermione...Or you may end up sleeping with one eye open tonight," he warned.  
  
Her grin only increased.  
  
"I'd like to see you try something...clever Harry Potter. Exactly what would you do to me while I slept? Wait...forget I asked...I don't want to know!" she cried, raising her palms up in front of her, taking a step back.  
  
"Oh? You want it to be a surprise, do you?" he asked slyly.  
  
She took a step forward and punched him playfully again. "Don't count on it, Harry, I was merely indicating that I don't want to know what goes on in a 16 year old boy's head," she told him.  
  
"I'm a boy now, am I? You won't be thinking that tonight..."he said, shocking even himself.  
  
He couldn't decide what had possessed him to talk to her the way that he was. He never had before, and he realized that it just felt so easy...so casual...he liked being able to joke with her, regardless of the content of the teasing.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and humor.  
  
"Now who's flirting?" was her response, as her heart beat furiously. Harry took a brave step forward, their bodies now an inch apart.  
  
"I don't know...but that's a good question," he said softly.   
  
Her heart felt like it was trying to pound itself out of her chest. Could he hear it? She forced herself to look up at him, brown eyes meeting green. His right hand had somehow latched itself to her hip, his left index finger softly outlining her jaw line. Her breathing stopped. He was touching her. She didn't know why he was touching her, but at this moment she wasn't about to ask.   
  
She didn't even notice that he was just as shaky, just as shocked, and just as excited. It was like an invisible force pulling him to her, and he wasn't about to fight it. He swallowed and kept his gaze locked on hers.  
  
"You uncomfortable yet?" he whispered, continuously grazing her jaw line. She let out a raspy breath and nodded slowly.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he whispered in return.  
  
The invisible force was attacking him now, pulling his face downwards. She licked her lips slightly, just before his own closed the gap between them. It wasn't a full kiss. His lips softly grazed her own, and withdrew slightly, as if testing the water. She shuddered beneath him, opening her lips for invitation, and he quickly accepted, plunging them both into sweet sensations.  
  
The hand on her hip pulled her closer, his other hand now resting on the side of her face. One of her hands gripped his sweater, pulling him closer, and she eagerly responded to him by deepening the kiss. It was passion like she had never felt, surging through every molecule in her body. It wasn't the same warmth that she had felt while hugging him, but a fiercely hot fire, drowning them both into oblivion.  
  
The kiss drew to a slow end, but they didn't step away from each other. They didn't look at each other with shock and horror. Instead they smiled, and Hermione buried her head into his chest, sighing with contentment. Had that really just happened? She lifted her face up to him and grinned wickedly.  
  
"Well, it looks like you were right about one thing," she said to him.  
  
"Yeah?" he asked, his voice husky.  
  
"You're definitely not a boy after all."  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**


	6. Nighttime Pleasures

Chapter Six: Nighttime Pleasures  
  
  
The darkness swept around the young man that stood out under the vast black sky. In fact, everything around him was black, except for the sparkling white stars in the sky, so bright that Harry had to know it was just a dream. But what was the dream about? Why was he there? Exactly where was he? He didn't really have time to figure that out, because at that instant a soft, melodic voice interrupted the silence.  
  
"The ring..." she said softly.  
  
_The ring_, Harry thought, while searching for the voice. "Where are you?" he called into the vast darkness, feeling silly to be shouting at something he couldn't see.  
  
"The ring, Harry. You must unravel the secret of the ring," she said again.  
  
"Who are you?" Harry asked. And exactly what was this woman going on about?  
  
"There are three secrets to the power of the ring," the voice continued without heeding Harry's questions. "If you do not discover them...then all _can_ and _will_ be lost," the voice intoned.  
  
This was starting to get to Harry, mainly because he couldn't see the owner of the voice, and mainly because the voice was being a little too mysterious for his liking.  
  
A bright flash of light blinded him, and he squinted, realizing the owner of the voice had disappeared and that he was lying back in his bed, at Hogwarts, Boxing day morning.   
  
Harry looked to his left and found the clock on his nightstand that said it was three in the morning. Upon looking to his right, he could see the woman he loved sleeping peacefully, her hair fanned out beneath her. An arm had swung over him sometime during the night.  
  
Then Harry noticed the ring. It was glowing softly. The gentle glow was dying down, but Harry felt an increasing panic. What did that mean? Was Hermione in danger now?  
  
He reluctantly shook Hermione awake, knowing she most certainly would not want a peaceful sleep disturbed.  
  
"What is it, Harry?" she murmured sleepily.  
  
"It's...the ring, Hermione...Are you alright?" he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.  
  
Hermione sat up, propping the pillows up to cushion her head on the head board.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" she asked.  
  
Harry pointed to her ring and she lifted it up to the minor light that filtered through the window.  
  
"It's glowing. How odd," she said, now waking up a little more fully.  
  
"It _is_ odd, considering you're in no danger right now. Were you having a bad dream?" he asked, his bright green eyes shining with concern.  
  
"No, I'm fine. I don't think I was dreaming at all. In fact, if anything," and she said the next part a little shyly, "I'm happier now than I've ever been."  
  
Harry sighed and decided to drop the subject of the ring. The dream he had could wait.  
  
Running a thumb across her cheek he counted the many things he'd love to do with her at that moment. He couldn't even believe she was there with him, in his bed, in his arms. Fully clothed of course. And he wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
Earlier that evening when all had gone to bed, Hermione had sneaked into Harry's dorm with sweets and pumpkin juice. For hours they stayed up talking on Harry's bed, Harry in his pj's, Hermione in the same p.j's she had worn that morning (to Harry's great pleasure). The talking had only stopped when Harry had gotten more courage, and kissed Hermione again, and again. Then it seemed that was all they could do. He was loving her more and more and he was sure he could never ever stop.  
  
At some point they had both fell asleep on Harry's bed, even though Hermione had been very insistent at her sleeping on Ron's bed.  
  
Hermione now looked up at him and gave him a sweet smile that went straight to his heart.  
  
"Why do you have to be so perfect?" she asked.  
  
He returned her smile and shrugged. "Oh, I'm not perfect. I mean, there's the hair...which will never cease to annoy me...and the glasses..."  
  
"I like the glasses. And the hair. It adds character, and I wouldn't have you any other way," she argued, getting defensive over Harry's own appearance.  
  
He quirked a brow and gave her his famous grin.  
  
"Oh...so you _would_ have me, would you?" he asked. This got a laugh out of Hermione and she gave him the same look.  
  
"And what if I said yes?" She trailed off, letting him think what he wanted to. It gave her immense butterflies to think that he "could" want her in that way.  
  
He groaned and rolled his head to the side.  
  
"Hermione...do you have any idea how much that kills me when you say stuff like that?" he asked.  
  
Hermione took advantage of this and lifted herself up to straddle his lap. It was a daring move, but there was a fuel inside her that was igniting her at that moment, and she couldn't back down.  
  
"No...I don't know...Why don't you show me?" she asked, and before she could even get the sentence out he had pressed his lips to her own.   
  
She trembled beneath his kiss, shaking from the ferocity and passion that she could feel with every touch, every kiss. His arms were around her now, pulling her closer. She moaned into the kiss, disbelieving that even now, after so many kisses from him, the passion and love she felt for him only got stronger.  
  
Until a burning question pierced her heart with dread.  
  
Was Harry even her boyfriend? They hadn't really discussed it and it was these thoughts that made her pull back.  
  
"What is it?" he asked when she just kept staring at him, trying to form the question in her mind.  
  
"I was just thinking...what's happening with _us_?" she asked.  
  
"Us...you and me...together...Isn't that what you want?" he asked.  
Hermione rolled her eyes, still remaining straddled on his lap. "Gee, Harry, no that's not what I want. I'm what Ron would call a _Scarlet Woman_," she replied sarcastically before punching him in the arm playfully. "You can be _such_ a dolt sometimes. Of course I want us together. But...are we...I mean..." She lost her composure again and a blush colored her cheeks, and she was thankful that it was dark.  
  
"Ah, you mean to say are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Nah, I'd rather you be my scarlet woman," he teased and received another punch in the arm. He laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the lips and pulled back.  
  
"You're more to me than just a girlfriend, Hermione. You're my best friend, and the reason I'm alive to this day," he told her in a serious tone.  
  
She gave a shy smile and lowered her eyes. After thinking of what she was going to say she lifted her head up again to meet his eyes.  
  
"I couldn't ask for anything more, Harry. It's true, what you said. Because you're more to me than just a boyfriend. You're my best friend too, but more than that you're my protector. I don't always agree with the fact that you put yourself in danger to save my own life, but it's a fact. I'm just as much your protector as you are mine," she told him.  
  
He nodded in agreement and ran a hand over her soft curly hair. Hermione rested her head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.  
  
"It's beating so fast," she whispered, looking up at him.  
  
"It's beating for you," he whispered back, and Hermione found herself holding back tears.  
  
Why did he have to be so perfect? All thoughts ceased, however, when she pressed her lips to his, letting him feel all the passion, hunger and love she felt for him. She would never tell him that she loved him, at least not now. But sometimes, actions did speak louder than words, and if that were the case then he would know that this love was as pure and as everlasting as the best of them.  
  
Harry remained slightly more worried though. Not just the dream, but the fact that Hermione was more to him now than she was earlier. If Voldemort found out...he didn't want to think about it, but knew there was only one thing he could do.  
  
"We need to discuss something though," he interrupted and Hermione crossed her brows in interest.  
  
"Well, what is it?" she asked a little impatiently. She'd much rather not do any talking at this point.  
  
"We _do_ have a dilemma. I don't want to put you in any more danger than I already have. It's bad enough Voldemort ...well anyway...it's bad enough," he said quite sadly.  
  
Hermione drew herself up with determination glinting in her eyes.  
  
"Harry...if you think you're just going to push me away, you've got another thing coming. I've waited too long for you,_ far_ too long. Longer than I'd like to admit, and I'm not letting you go now. Furthermore, you don't seem to understand that I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself. Will you get it through your thick head?" she demanded.  
  
She was getting sick of Harry's need for chivalry.  
  
He sighed and pulled her close.  
  
"I don't want to push you away. I could never do that. We just need to think of your safety is all," he told her.  
  
She nodded into his chest.  
  
"Maybe we could just keep it to ourselves...we don't have to let anyone know. If it's kept a secret, then Voldemort will never know," Hermione suggested quietly.  
  
More than anything she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that she was dating Harry Potter. She even secretly wanted to see the seething, jealous faces of every girl in the school. But at this point, it didn't seem like it was going to happen.  
  
"I think it's a good idea for now. Until we're sure that Voldemort wants nothing to do with you," Harry agreed, equally just as disappointed.  
  
Seconds ticked by in silence, each contemplating their own misfortune. Then Hermione grinned at him. "It sure will be fun hiding it though, won't it?" she asked.  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
"Well, I suppose we should make the most of our time alone together," and with that he licked his lips meaningfully.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**


	7. Myths and Butterbeer

Chapter Seven: Myths and Butterbeer  
  
  
"You never did tell me why you gave her that ring."  
  
Harry waited a few minutes before looking up from his piece of parchment. How he hated Potions.  
  
"Hmm?" he asked.  
  
Ron Weasley gave an impatient sigh, sitting up and facing Harry squarely. They both sat in the common room, Harry working on his Potions assignment, Ron working on his Divination.  
  
"The ring, Harry, the ring. What possessed you?" he asked again.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, something he had been doing quite often around Ron lately. Months had passed since Christmas, and Ron was still having the same fits...demanding to know why Harry had given Hermione such an "important" ring.  
  
"Did you want one too, Ron?" Harry teased.  
  
"Don't be such a prat, Harry. I just don't understand it, is all." Then he added in an undertone, "is there something going on between you two?"  
  
Harry arched a brow. "Now who's being the prat?" he muttered.  
  
"Well...you have to admit it looks a little suspicious. I suppose you'd tell me if there was something going on, though," Ron added.  
  
Harry tried not to look guilty.  
  
"Of course I would, not that it matters. Nothing is going on. Nothing has been, nor will there be anything going on. Would you drop it? This is Hermione we're talking about," Harry said, doing his best impression of sounding aghast.  
  
"Fine...but you do know about the ring, don't you, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"What about it?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well... it's the Friendship ring...don't tell me you gave it to her without at least having some idea about it," Ron said, his blue eyes widening with shock.  
  
"Er...of course not," Harry stammered, suddenly looking very worried.  
  
"You are such a dolt!!" Ron hissed.  
  
"Shh...keep it down Ron...I had the ring custom made. There's nothing to worry about," Harry reassured his red-haired, freckled friend. But he didn't sound as sure about it as he once did. Ron obviously knew something that he did not.  
  
"Sorry to tell you, Harry, but the Friendship ring is one-of-a-kind. You can't have it custom made," Ron told him, confirming Harry's worried thoughts.  
  
"But...I did..." Harry tried to argue.  
  
The truth was, he couldn't prove that it was custom made. He had asked for it, and when the jeweler said it was too rare and didn't have it, nor did he have any idea where it was, Harry had requested it to be made. Now that he thought about it, how could such a ring be made in a weeks time?  
  
The original, which apparently was so rare, took years to construct. No one knew the true powers of the ring, they only knew that it was supposed to protect a loved one. The one who carried the ring linked her or him to the one that it had been disposed from.  
  
"Well then, what do you know about it?" Harry asked quietly, so no other students could hear what they were talking about.  
  
Ron lowered his voice dramatically.  
  
"There's a myth that a woman, many years ago, was cursed. Her spirit was placed in the Friendship ring. Only until a pair came across it, a pair so pure and in love, could release her spirit within. There's more to it, but no one really knows. Apparently the spirit within the ring is what protects ...well in this case it would be Hermione. It's amazing that you came across it really. That's why it's suspicious about you two..."  
  
"So you're saying that there's a spirit inside Hermione's ring waiting to be released?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron nodded furiously.  
  
"What happens if she isn't released?" Harry ventured.  
  
"Ah, well" Ron looked a little uncomfortable. "It's a myth really. Like I said. But if that happens, then well...Hermione could die..." Ron trailed off.  
  
They both suddenly felt very foolish. What a thing to say...Hermione die. They both secretly shuddered.  
  
"Well, lucky it's just a myth. Well then, how do you suppose she'd be released?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron only shrugged. "That's the mystery as well. It's said that there are three keys to the ring...in order ..."  
  
Ron continued but Harry wasn't listening. Three keys? It was just like the dream. The soft, misty voice pleading with him...he had had the dream more than a few times now. It didn't necessarily haunt him, but it had a very firm effect all the same.  
  
"So anyway, do you suppose Sirius will be looking for a house to live in now?" Ron asked, changing the subject.  
  
Harry grinned and nodded. "Yeah...we both have never been more excited to find a home. I'll be looking with him," Harry said, thinking back to the very first month of the new year.  
  
The Daily Prophet had cleared all and any charges against Sirius Black and steadily, but surely, wizards and witches all over began to trust and like Sirius again. It made Harry slightly angry, thinking that people closest to him had accused him outright, and as soon as his name had been cleared, they suddenly acted innocent, as though they had never believed that he had done something so horrid, and had believed him to be innocent the all throughout his imprisonement.   
  
The anger didn't last long, however, because then Harry's mind would drift to the home he would be heading to this summer. No more Dursleys. It was more than he could ever hope for. He finally had the family he wanted. Sirius would become the father Harry never had.  
  
Thinking of that also made Harry think of Peter Pettigrew. He was now in Azkaban, serving a lifetime imprisonment. It was then that Harry wondered what kind of life he would have if he had just let Sirius and his former professor, Remus Lupin, kill Pettigrew when they had the chance. He didn't venture along these thoughts for long though, because the present was far too important to him. He was far too anxious for his own good.  
  
"We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow to meet Sirius. Wanna come?" Harry asked.  
  
"We? You and Hermione?" Ron asked, his blue eyes focusing intently on Harry's own green ones.  
  
"Don't make it sound like that. How many times to I have to tell you..." Harry warned.  
  
"Hey...I didn't say anything," Ron said defensively, putting a hand up to stop Harry from saying more. "Sure I'll come. Haven't been there in a while," Ron added to himself as he turned back to his assignment.  
  
Harry followed suite, though his mind was locked on Hermione.  
  
She would die? Was it really a myth? Ron was convinced that that was all it was, but then again, Ron hadn't been having the same dreams as Harry. Was their love really enough to release the spirit? There was no question that he loved her deeply, but there was still the uncertainty of how she felt about him. He secretly wondered how many hands had fallen to the Friendship ring? How many lovers had ceased to exist because their love wasn't pure enough? How in the world did Harry, at age 16, soon to be 17, fall upon the mysterious ring?  
  
All these questions and more rolled around Harry's mind like small round stones...thumping and rolling around against each other, making his head pound with the beginnings of a headache. The only thing that got him through the rest of the day was the fact that he would be visiting his godfather the following day. Besides finding alone time with Hermione, it was excitement at its best.  
  
  


*

  
  
"Hello, Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, " greeted Madam Rosmerta as the two wizards and one witch stepped into the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"Good afternoon, Madam Rosmerta," greeted Harry enthusiastically. The warm weather that normally came with the beginnings of spring only added to Harry's excitement.  
  
"You're late, Potter," greeted Sirius Black, already seated in the far corner, having saved them a round table with four wooden chairs to match. They all took their seats and Hermione offered to go get them some Butterbeer.  
  
"Sorry about that, Sirius. Ron slept in," Harry told him, grinning.  
  
Ron's mouth dropped.  
  
"You filthy liar," he hissed. "Then how was it that I ended up dragging _you_ out of bed?" Ron demanded.  
  
Sirius only laughed along with Harry as Ron continued to look defensive.  
  
"Thank you, dear," Sirius said as Hermione returned with four mugs of delicious hot Butterbeer.  
  
"Can't get enough of these, I can't," Ron murmured into his mug before taking a long gulp.  
  
"Sick," Hermione said, gawking at Ron as he inhaled half his mug.  
  
"Ahhh..." Ron sighed contentedly, slamming his mug down onto the table.  
  
"Anyway, Harry. I think I've found the perfect place, but of course I won't know that until you've seen it," Sirius said, turning to his godson.  
  
Harry's mood brightened (which couldn't have been that much more, because he was already bouncing off his seat with quiet excitement).  
  
"Where is it?" he asked.  
  
The three others laughed, enjoying Harry's enthusiasm. His two friends were very happy for him, and couldn't wait for Harry to move into the home he deserved.  
  
"Actually, I've been talking a lot with Arthur Weasley, " he said glancing at Ron as his eyes widened.  
  
"I told him not to say anything because I wanted to keep this a bit of a surprise. There's a house just down the road from the Weasleys. It's a three bedroom, two floor, large kitchen, family room with a fire place, two bathrooms, a large back yard and front yard. There's also a rec room, which I thought we could turn into a study, and the third bedroom can be used, of course, for guests..." Sirius stopped talking, because the look on Harry's face started to worry him.  
  
"You all right, Harry?" he asked, his dark eyes darkening even more with concern.  
  
Harry just kept staring, and though they couldn't tell, he was really fighting off tears. He was absolutely speechless.  
  
A home. A real home. And Sirius would be living with him. He had known this for a few years now, had waited patiently. But he had no idea that this was what it would feel like when the actual day came. It seemed so surreal to him that he could have the home he always wanted. Down the road from the Weasleys no less.  
  
He suddenly realized that everyone was staring at him and he snapped out of his reverie instantly.  
  
"It sounds perfect," he choked out, reaching under his glasses to wipe away the beginnings of a tear.  
  
Sirius beamed at his godson, knowing just how he felt. He owed so much to Harry, and his two friends. He felt that he would never have enough time to make it all up to them.  
  
"There's more good news," he said, now beaming with a proud kind of happiness.  
  
"More...Oh I don't think I can handle this," Harry said, his eyes red from being rubbed free of tears.  
  
"I owe a lot to your father, Ron. He's gotten me a job at the Ministry. Seems his partner, as old as he is, finally retired. You're looking at his new partner," Sirius said.  
  
Hermione gasped with delight and quickly ran over to give the older wizared a congratulatory hug.  
  
"Leave it to my father to do something this great. I'm very happy for you, Sirius," Ron said, also smiling broadly.  
  
Harry only stared at his godfather in awe. Could things possibly get any better?  
  
Wait, yes they could, he thought as he glanced at his secret girlfriend. She met his eyes and gave him a special smile, one reserved just for him. His heart gave a light flutter, wondering if it was possible if Hermione could or would ever love him. Then he thought about the ring, and suddenly hoped that she could, for the sake of her own life. He had kept the dreams and the conversation he had with Ron to himself, not wanting Hermione to worry too much. She already had enough on her plate, what with Voldemort and everything.  
  
"Could things possibly get any better?" Harry asked, voicing his first thoughts exactly. Everyone at the table laughed with Harry, each and every last one giddy from the butterbeer, and thrilled for Harry and Sirius.  
  
Even now, Harry seriously doubted that even Voldemort could take away this feeling.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**


	8. Trust and Loyalty

Chapter Eight: Truth and Loyalty  
  
  
Morning in the Great Hall couldn't be more uneventful as Harry, Ron and Hermione enjoyed brunch at the Gryffindor table. The uneventfulness all changed, of course, when dozens and dozens of all types and breeds of owls swooped in from the windows above, carrying letters and packages for those that they belonged to. Even Hedwig, the snowy white owl who belonged to Harry, came in with a letter. She swooped down and landed directly on Harry's shoulder, and he eagerly retrieved the parchment from her clutches.  
  
"It's a letter from Sirius," Harry said happily, reading it. Ron and Hermione waited eagerly for Harry to finish his letter.  
  
"He wants us to go down for Easter Holidays," Harry informed them after a short pause. "You guys are coming, right? This'll give you a chance to visit your family, Ron," Harry added, letting Hedwig nip at his bacon.  
  
"I'm coming," Hermione said decisively, also returning to her breakfast. "I can't wait to see your new house."  
  
"Well then, I'm coming, too. Though I just saw my family a few months ago," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at Harry so Hermione couldn't see.  
  
It was all Harry could do to keep from laughing. More and more lately, Ron had become suspicious about his two best friends, and seemed very adamant in not letting Harry and Hermione have _any_ time alone...whatever the circumstance.  
  
"Good then, I'll write back to Sirius when we're done breakfast," Harry said pleasantly.  
  
  


*

  
  
The departure for the Hogwarts Express was practically the opposite of when the students left for Christmas. This time around, most students hung back, while very few boarded the Express.  
  
Harry was especially excited, because this would be his first time taking a look at his house. A month ago when Sirius had told him about the house, Harry had insisted that Sirius take it. There would be no time for Harry to look with him and besides, Harry trusted Sirius to find the perfect home for them. After all, he had been homeless just as long, if not longer, than Harry. The trip was surprisingly dull, they all took the same compartment and found little things to talk about. Soon though, Platform 9 3/4 loomed into view and the train pulled to an immediate stop.  
  
Minutes later they found themselves face to face with Harry's godfather and Arthur Weasley.  
  
"Was the trip alright?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Yeah. Long though, I'm starved," Ron answered, rubbing his stomach for effect.  
  
"You just _ate_! Loads and Loads of junk food..." Hermione said.  
  
"Do you know _any_ thing about growing boys, Hermione?" Ron asked defensively.  
  
Hermione scowled and said, "I don't want to know, thanks." Everyone but Hermione laughed.  
  
"I've managed to furnish the house, with the money that you lent me Harry--"  
  
"I gave that money to you. I'm not taking it back," Harry argued with his godfather. This time Sirius scowled.  
  
"I'm not having my godson pay for everything. I told you I'd take care of you. That was a promise," he said.  
  
"But you've already paid for the house! I know my parents would want me to at least pay for something...the furniture seems fair enough!" Harry insisted.  
  
"No offense, Harry. But you didn't know your parents. They left that money for you to make sure you'd be O.K. They made me your godfather because they wanted _me_ to take care of _you_. Without your money. Understand?" It was an ending statement. The argument was over. Harry frowned, but nodded nonetheless.  
  
  


*

  
  
"It's perfect," sighed Harry. The group of five wizards and one witch stood in front of the house that was now Harry and Sirius's home.  
  
"Wait until you see inside...it's just...you'll love it," Sirius said, leading them all inside.  
  
It was perfect inside as well, they all realized. The front door was oak, with a veranda leading to the back way. The front foyer, small though, was comfortable. While the flooring throughout the family room and recreation room was hardwood, the kitchen was floored with linoleum.  
  
The kitchen was plain and comfortable, with plenty of cupboard space, a large pantry, and a back door which opened to the backyard. The kitchen also led into a carpeted dining room where a round wooden table, large enough to fit six, sat. A cute chandelier hung above it. Harry and the others followed Sirius into the family room where already there was a sofa, two armchairs, the fireplace as promised and a dark blue shaggy carpet, to match the furniture, sat in the middle of the floor. They went on like this for a while, looking at all the different rooms. Harry found himself comparing his new home to the Dursley home, and he realized just how much he loved his new house. Sirius couldn't have picked a better place to live for them both.  
  
Harry couldn't help but give an audible gasp when he saw his room. An identical four poster bed to the one he had at Hogwarts took up most of his room. The rest was taken up by dressers and shelves. The room was perfect, already decorated and painted in a dark shade of green.  
  
Mr. Weasley announced that he had to head back to the Ministry of Magic, and promised to see them in the evening, asking if Ron would be back for dinner.  
  
"I'd be happy to have him. Though I _do_ think you should go visit your mum," Sirius told Ron.  
  
It was then that Harry suggested they all head over to the Weasleys for a visit. They spent a few hours laughing at Fred and George's antics and enjoyed a fresh, hot meal cooked by Molly Weasley.   
Stomach full of a late lunch, Harry and Hermione went back to Harry's house, leaving Ron behind because, "You can spend time with your family Ron," his mother had insisted. And Harry and Hermione left behind a very put-out Ron.  
  
Only until they reached the inside of the house did Harry start moving a little closer to Hermione, and only until they reached the house did Hermione start doing little things, like touching Harry's hand, or his shoulder, or brush up against him whenever she had the chance. This killed him of course, because even Sirius wasn't supposed to know about their secret relationship.  
  
Dinner was delicious and as Harry helped Hermione tidy the kitchen they found themselves acting as though everything were normal, at least as normal as they would be if they were allowed to let their secret out. They finally let their guard down, however slightly, as Harry pressed a kiss to her temple, and she sighed. It was a lot less than what she wanted, but knew until they were absolutely alone...well...it was all they could do.  
  
As Hermione thought more deeply about this, her mind traveled to Ron. He seemed to be more forceful than ever in not letting them be alone, which was starting to unhinge Hermione. Did he really know something? She asked Harry this as she continued drying the dishes.  
  
"No...I don't think so," Harry answered her in a reassuring tone. "I think he's suspicious because of the ring, but he has no real proof. There was no way he could have caught us."  
  
"Why would he care that you gave me a ring?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry gave a nonchalant shrug. "I think it's because you're only supposed to give jewelry to the woman you lo--...well to someone you really care about," Harry said, quickly recovering from his near spill of his love for her.  
  
"That's odd," Hermione said but dropped the subject to Harry's relief.br>   
  


*

  
  
"Are you two not ready for bed _yet_?" Sirius asked, sitting himself down on the dark blue armchair that faced the sofa.  
  
"We're not tired...and what exactly are you doing?" Harry asked. Harry and Hermione suddenly realized that Sirius had walked in without a shirt on, wearing only a pair of draw string p.j bottoms.  
  
"What? You don't go around like this at Hogwarts? Do you have any idea how hot it is wearing robes all day?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Yes! But do you see _me_ without a shirt on?" Harry asked him more sharply than he intended. A sudden thought jumped into his mind in a taunting whisper.  
  
_Jealous...you're jealous..._ Yeah? Harry thought to himself. Jealous of what? It was bad enough Hermione was in the room--  
  
_Now you're getting it... This is about Hermione. Not about Sirius,_ the thought continued.  
  
Harry mentally groaned.  
  
"What's so horrible, Harry?" Hermione said in Sirius's defense. "I don't have a problem with it," she added. And it was possibly the knowing look in her eye (did she know what he was thinking? How he felt?) that miffed him more than anything else.  
  
"You don't find _any_ thing wrong with it?" Harry snapped, turning his head to Hermione.  
  
"You don't have to be such a child, Harry. I seriously don't find anything wrong with it. He's a grown man in his own house," Hermione told him, trying to sound as logical and mature as possible.  
  
"Great," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
Hermione didn't answer. She tore her gaze away from him, now fuming in her own anger. How dare he? Exactly what did he think she would do?   
At this point Hermione stood up, crossed the room, and headed upstairs to the spare room.  
  
"Let me know when you grow up, Potter!" she shouted over her shoulder.  
  
Harry turned to Sirius, the scowl still on his face.  
  
"Thanks, Sirius. Thanks a lot," he muttered.  
  
"You'd better go talk to her. Wouldn't want her to think you were jealous," Sirius said, grinning.  
  
Harry paled.  
  
"I ...don't know what you're talking about..." he choked, but quickly climbed the stairs before Sirius could answer. His godfather's laughter followed him up the stairs as he made his way to the spare room Hermione was using.  
  
The door was closed. Taking a deep breath, Harry knocked, waiting patiently for a reply.  
  
The door tore open and Hermione stood there, looking as deadly and as beautiful as ever.  
  
"Yes, _milord_?" she greeted sarcastically, holding the door open so he could walk in freely. He took the invitation and she closed the door behind them.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean...to...lose control. There's no real explanation for what I said down there. I was being a child," he said.  
  
"Well... that much was evident. And you're forgiven," she said.   
  
Harry's eyes widened. "It's that easy?" he asked. He would never have known, since he and Hermione rarely ever fought.  
  
"Well you apologized...didn't you? That's good enough for me," she told him, grinning at the apparent relief that he felt. The smile faded to be replaced by a slight frown. However, Harry observed that she was not angry. She looked...upset.  
  
Hermione stepped away from the door and walked towards the window, staring out at it, leaning her head against the cool glass.  
  
Harry followed her and wrapped his arms around her slender figure, resting his chin on her shoulder. He took a deep breath, taking in her sweet smell. He felt her relax in his arms, leaning her head against his chest.  
  
"Harry...do you trust me?" she asked.  
  
He frowned. What kind of a question was that? Of course he trusted her. Then he realized that this question must have been thought of over the situation downstairs. He straightened and turned Hermione to face him, cupping her chin in his hand.  
  
"Of course I trust you. Do you trust me?" he asked.  
  
Hermione nodded furiously. "I trust you," she said softly.  
  
He was about to confirm that with a kiss when Harry was blinded by a bright glow which illuminated the room. The light not only filled every dark corner in the room, but it also lit Harry up from the inside. The look on Hermione's face suggested that she was experiencing the same thing. As the brilliant glow began to fade, Harry pointed at Hermione's chest.  
  
"The ring..." Harry said. The silver and gold ring was now softly glowing...the light fading with every passing second. Yet Harry was still awed by the fact that he could still feel it from the inside, as though the light really came from his own heart and would remain ignited forever.  
  
"What do you think it means?" Hermione asked, looking up to meet his worried gaze.  
  
"I don't feel like you're in danger. Do _you_?" Harry asked. This was just like last time, when they had had the sleepover. He had just woken up from a dream then. And this time it felt far more intense. What did that mean?  
  
"No...I feel perfectly safe, content...just like last time," Hermione said softly, deep in thought.  
  
"This ring...it makes no sense..." Harry said, completely frustrated.  
  
He should have looked into it. Now Hermione could be in danger more than she already was, because of his stupidity. But this was the original, Ron had said. So someone wanted him to have this ring...or even for Hermione to have it. Could Voldemort have sent the ring? Harry strove to remain calm as he mentally berated himself. He was used to being more careful than that. Now Voldemort could have a clear shot at his love. But she said that she felt content. And so did he. So...  
  
"It's OK, Harry. I'm fine. You're fine. The ring...well, we'll figure it out. We're good at finding the missing pieces to the puzzle. We're a team, always and forever," she said.  
  
He took her hand and kissed it. "Always and forever," he echoed. "And I promise I'll never let anything happen to you. I'll always be there, loyal to the very end." he whispered. It would have sounded funny to anyone else. But at that moment tears sprung to Hermione's eyes.  
  
"Yes. Loyal to the end," she repeated, his words echoing strongly in her mind and heart.  
  
Another bright light, more blinding than the last, sprouted from the ring, and Hermione gasped from the ferocity of the light. And just like a moment before, it filled their minds and hearts, spreading to every dark corner in their beings. As the glow faded, Harry managed to find his voice.  
  
"Now....? Do you feel OK?" he asked, because in truth, he couldn't feel she was in danger. In his mind, she was perfectly safe.  
  
"I'm fine. Perfect really. Just like the other two times," she said. This was getting weird.  
  
Harry was deep in thought though.  
  
"The last time...it happened, we were talking about..."  
  
"Trusting each other. It was like..." Hermione trailed off, not being able to form her thoughts into words.  
  
"And this time...we were talking about..."  
  
"Loyalty to each other," Hermione finished.  
  
"And all three times it happened, what did you feel?" Harry asked, forming the thoughts in his mind. Could he be right?  
  
"I've felt happy, content. Blissful even," Hermione said, no longer shy.  
  
"Me, too..." Harry said, letting his voice trail off.  
  
The dream, he thought, said three keys. The ring had burst into light three times...but the first time didn't seem to count because nothing had happened. They had both been sleeping. But the last two times...?  
  
"Trust and Loyalty," Harry murmured.  
  
"What does it mean?" Hermione asked. Harry looked down at her, meeting her eyes.  
  
"The keys to the ring," he revealed. Hermione frowned up at him, confused. What was he going on about?  
  
"I've been having these dreams...please don't get angry," he said quickly as Hermione's face turned into a scowl.  
  
"I didn't want to worry you. Please understand that. There was this voice in my dream telling me that there were three keys to the ring...but it was so vague, I had no idea what she was talking about."  
  
"She?" Hermione snapped.  
  
Harry smiled and ran a finger through her soft curly hair. "Now who's jealous?" he teased.  
  
The scowl disappeared from her face and she nodded. "Right, trust, and loyalty," she reminded herself and Harry.  
  
"Anyway, I was talking to Ron. Apparently there's this myth that goes with the ring. A woman spirit was trapped within the Friendship ring, and there were only three keys to release the spirit within...but no one really knows much more about it. Apparently it's the spirit that's protecting you," Harry explained, deliberately leaving out what might happen if the spirit was not released.  
  
"Oh..." Hermione said softly. She was now more confused than she was before.  
  
"Hey," he said gently, lifting up her face so he could look straight into her brown eyes "You'll be alright. _We'll_ be alright. Life is just too good for us right now for it to end," he said.  
  
She nodded and closed her eyes as they both enjoyed a soft, gentle and completely passionate kiss. A single tear sliding down Hermione's cheek went unnoticed to them both as they let themselves get lost in the one moment they may have had alone.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**  



	9. A Conversation with Sirius

Chapter Nine: A Conversation With Sirius  
  
  
"I'll be back, Mum. I'm gonna go visit the others!" Ron called from the front hallway as he slipped on his shoes and jacket.  
  
"Alright, dear. Be good," called back his mother from somewhere deep in the kitchen.  
  
Ron mumbled an answer and made his way outside, to find the cool spring air brush against his face. Stars sparkled like tiny diamond studs against the black blanket of night, the moon a thin sliver against the surface.  
  
He walked the short distance to his best friend's house, contemplating the whole while. He just _knew_ that there was something going on with his two friends. But then his logic would kick in. Why would they keep whatever it was hidden from him? They had no reason, and it was these thoughts that made Ron give Harry the benefit of the doubt.  
  
He realized, at that moment, that he had reached the end of the driveway to Harry and Sirius's house, and as he looked up to one of the windows he noticed that lamps were still lighting up a room--Harry's room, if Ron's memory served him right. As he peered closer he could see two figures silhouetted behind the sheer white curtain that hung over the window. The figures were unmistakable. They were Harry and Hermione.  
  
Ron's eyes widened as he witnessed Harry put his arms around Hermione from behind, and Hermione leaned back. They seemed to be having a conversation. This was a little weird. He stepped onto the lawn to get a closer look and saw Harry turn Hermione around, lifting her face up. Did best friends do that? He--Ron--and Hermione had never done that, so that couldn't be right. Ron gasped as not one-- but two bright flashes of light flooded the room and slowly faded moments later. As the two figures continued talking, (he couldn't hear what they were saying nor could he see the expressions on their faces), he saw Harry, to Ron's amazement, lean down and press his lips to Hermione's.  
  
Ron knew this couldn't have been a first kiss. He knew because it looked so natural. There was no awkwardness about it, no shyness. It was purely natural.  
  
"You might want to step away from there, or they'll see you," said a low voice from the oak doorway. Ron turned bright red as he obeyed Sirius, stepping out of the light of the window.  
  
"I...came to visit before you all went to bed," Ron explained, still in shock over the revelation.  
  
Harry and Hermione _were_ together. Ron suddenly felt an overwhelming anger fill him from head to toe. Why hadn't they told him? Why had Harry lied, time after time? Did they not trust Ron?  
  
As Ron took in Sirius's grin, something in his brain clicked.  
  
"You knew?" he asked, glaring at the older wizard accusingly. Sirius continued to grin and nodded.  
  
"Yes, I knew. But they don't know that I know. They haven't exactly done the best job at keeping it to themselves," Sirius told Ron, glancing up at the silhouetted forms.  
  
"I didn't know," Ron admitted, feeling angrier.  
  
"Well..." Sirius said slowly, "don't forget. I'm a little bit older, a little bit more experienced. I, too, once had best friends who had fallen in love."  
  
"Harry's parents, right?" Ron asked. Sirius nodded.  
  
"You think they're really in love?" asked Ron.  
  
Sirius simply pointed to the couple by the window, who were still completely oblivious to the two wizards below talking about them.  
  
"I do. But I hope for Hermione's sake that they realize it as well," Sirius said. Ron quirked a brow.  
  
"The ring, you mean? Is the myth true?" Ron asked. Sirius didn't answer, but motioned for them to take a walk.  
  
"May as well give them the privacy they need," Sirius explained as he conjured a shirt from inside. Slipping it on, they walked down the gravel pathway to the road.  
  
"There are many complications to the ring, I'm afraid. I do believe the one true myth of the ring is true," he began.  
  
"The spirit, then? There really are three mysteries to the ring? What are they?" Ron asked.  
  
"I don't really know. But it seems Harry and Hermione have figured out the first two. There's just one more..." said Sirius.  
  
"Do you have any idea what it could be?" asked Ron.  
  
"A lot of people have their theories. Just as I do. Just as you do."  
  
"But if _they_ don't figure it out-- doesn't that mean that Hermione could die?" Ron asked.  
  
Sirius sighed, contemplating the answer. It was true that if the spirit didn't find the third key with this couple, the curse upon the ring would end Hermione's life, and the ring would continue traveling aimlessly, searching for the right couple. At least--that was according to the story behind the myth.  
  
"I don't know what will happen, or what _could_ happen," Sirius answered truthfully. "But it seems that with every passing second, the myth is turning out to be truer than anyone ever thought it would be."  
  
"What happens if the spirit is released?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, no one really knows, right? Since it's never been released. I don't imagine anything bad will happen," Sirius said.  
  
Ron nodded and remained silent, thinking of any reason at all why Harry would keep such an important thing to himself.  
  
"It's nothing personal against you, Ron. Harry was doing it to protect Hermione," Sirius said as though he had read Ron's thoughts.  
  
Ron frowned, unable to control his indignation and anger.  
  
"Protect her from what? Me? What have I done?" he asked defensively.  
  
"No, not you. Voldemort. You _do_ know that Hermione is in a very compromising position."  
  
Ron nodded. "That doesn't explain anything though," Ron argued.  
  
"Because you're not thinking," Sirius snapped. "It's obvious Harry cares more about Hermione's safety more than his own. If Voldemort ever got wind of them being closer than best friends, well, we can only guess what that monster would do. I'm assuming that Hermione refused to be pushed away. She's very determined to prove to Harry that she's not afraid of Voldemort, and so I suppose they agreed to keep their relationship a secret. They haven't told anyone. Even me. I just figured it out by paying attention. When Harry gave Hermione the ring, that was my first clue," Sirius said.  
  
"It was my first clue, too. But Harry kept denying it," Ron said.  
  
"I never asked Harry. I knew he'd never admit to it. I'm surprised they kept it a secret this long...I'm very impressed," Sirius said softly.  
  
"I'm not," Ron muttered. "They're my best friends."  
  
"Afraid of being the third wheel, are you?" asked Sirius, turning his thoughtful gaze onto the red head.  
  
"No," Ron snapped, cringing at how fake his voice sounded to his own ears.  
  
Sirius seemed to have heard it, too, because he said, "I once felt like the third wheel. With Lily and James. It was very painful knowing things would never be the same again."  
  
"But you had Wormtail...and Moony. Though Wormtail wasn't worth much, I expect. I have no one," Ron said sadly.  
  
"True, I had the other two. Now Moony's the only one I _do_ have. But my problem back then, before Harry even existed... when Lily and James first started dating, was that I thought things were different. I pushed them away, frustrated and angry, thinking that they had betrayed me. Thinking that they had left me. It took a while for me to grow up, and realize that things had never changed. They still cared for me, and things were so much better when I eventually came to that conclusion. But for you, Ron, if you realize that they still love you and always will, and that they never intended to hurt you, then you'll never have to go through the pain or the anger. You can accept it now, and be happy for them, like a best friend should. Or..."  
  
"Of course I'm happy for them. I suppose you're right. It's just hard," Ron said.  
  
Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a reassuring smile.  
  
"They love you. That's all that matters," he said. Ron smiled back and nodded, as they turned to head back to the house.  
  
  
**To Be Continued...**


	10. The Third Key

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, characters, and all related names and phrases are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. This is a fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended.  
  


  
  
Hermione groaned in frustration, slamming one of her textbooks on the table. Ron and Harry stared at her, not really sure whether to ask her what was wrong or not. She seemed a little on edge.  
  
"It's exams," Hermione moaned, thumping her head down on the book.  
  
"Oh...I thought you liked exams, Hermione," Ron said delicately.  
  
Hermione lifted her head up from the table and glared at her freckled friend. "Not anymore...I'm dropping out," Hermione pouted, but proceeded to flip through her book to the desired page as though she couldn't believe that she had dared to complain about school.  
  
"That's not like you, Hermione. What's wrong?" Harry asked. The three had been studying non-stop for days now, as finals were coming up in two weeks time.  
  
"I guess I'm a little edgy. Don't listen to me..." Hermione mumbled. Harry and Ron shrugged, and returned to their own work, though Harry kept a close wary eye on his beloved.  
  
Hermione had to admit that the only thing keeping her going was her secret meetings with Harry. They were too infrequent, and she missed him terribly. It was different than seeing him everyday, with all the teachers and students lurking everywhere. It was too impossible to find time to spend with Harry alone. Earlier that day, however, Hermione had received a private letter from the one she loved in secret, saying that he wanted to meet her on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They had met there before a couple of times, and Hermione found herself counting down the hours until she would make the trip down to the Forest.  
  
Ever since they had returned to Hogwarts after Easter, things were still as normal as ever, except for one thing: Ron had stopped shadowing their every move. In fact, he seemed happier now then he had before Easter. Hermione never had the chance to ask Harry about it, because, well she never got a single moment with him alone.  
  
Just then Lavender Brown came bursting through the portrait hole, Parvati Patil in tow. They were gasping and giggling as usual, and Hermione couldn't help but frown at the distraction.  
  
"Harry, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," Lavender said between breaths. Apparently they had run all the way to the common room, and were now trying to catch their breath.  
  
"Why would that be?" Harry asked, more so to himself. He glanced at Ron and Hermione to check their reactions, but all they did was shrug.  
  
"He didn't tell us," Parvati said. "But I'd hurry, it sounded urgent."  
  
Harry immediately cleaned up his books, parchment, quills and ink and set off without his two friends, insisting that he could visit with Dumbledore alone.  
  
Voicing the magic password (Gingersnaps) Harry passed the gargoyle and climbed up the escalator that led to Dumbledore's office. He had been there many times before, a lot of the visits being unpleasant memories in his mind.  
  
He stepped inside and gasped with delight.  
  
"Professor Lupin! Sirius! What are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed. Remus smiled along with Sirius, and in the chair behind the desk sat Dumbledore, also smiling at the small reunion. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had seen Remus.  
  
"Came to check up on you, Harry. I hear there's been some talk of Voldemort coming back?" Remus asked.  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "I think so, but I don't know for sure. I haven't had any dreams, or felt pain in my scar." Saying this made Harry automatically run his finger over the lightning bolt shaped scar to check if it was still there. Naturally it was.  
  
"You think Hermione might be in danger?" Remus asked.  
  
Harry nodded slowly, not really sure of anything anymore. If Voldemort and his Death Eaters were nearby, wouldn't they have acted by now? Would Voldemort really wait until the end of the year for a grand show?  
  
"They've come to help, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "They have a lot of experience with Voldemort. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that they are only here to take matters into their own hands, should you, Hermione, or any of the other students fall into trouble." Dumbledore paused and pointed a warning finger at Harry. "And not because they go looking for it...they will be here. Meanwhile, if nothing happens at all, I bid you both welcome, and enjoy your visit with Harry," the Headmaster said, turning back to the visitors.  
  
Harry grinned from ear to ear. Having his godfather here, he suddenly felt very safe. Not to mention Professor...well once Professor Lupin, but now known as Remus Moony Lupin.  
  
"They let you back at Hogwarts?" Harry asked Remus, as they made their way to the Great Hall.  
  
"For a short while," answered Remus. "I've been granted permission from the Ministry of Magic and I can stay until the end of the term."  
  
"Is it that serious to have you here? Are you really worried?" Harry asked them both.  
  
"Well you're my godson. Everyone knows Voldemort has it in for you. I've received special permission to remain for that reason as well. Besides that, Hermione has somewhat become like the daughter I never had, so I feel a need to keep her safe as well," Sirius added slyly, looking sideways at Harry to catch his reaction.  
  
Harry paled and looked away nervously, though deep down he was jumping for joy that Sirius had approved of Hermione, even though Sirius didn't know anything about their relationship. Or did he? Harry suddenly wondered. Sirius had certainly dropped enough hints.  
  
"Well, I can't tell you how happy and relieved I am to you have you both here. I'll need your help with not only Voldemort, should he arrive, but something else as well," Harry said nervously.  
  
"What would that be?" asked Sirius.  
  
"Er...well... I haven't exactly _told_ the Dursleys that I won't be coming back...I don't know how to tell them!" he cried defensively as Sirius's eyes widened.  
  
"Fine, fine, don't worry," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "We'll have to go back anyway to say farewell and to thank them for their _hospitality_," he said with a bite of sarcasm.  
  
"If by _thanking_ them you mean transporting them to the coldest, most empty corner in the world--then I'm all for it," Harry said.  
  
"It's dangerous giving Sirius ideas like that, Harry," Remus told him with a smirk.  
  
"We'll talk about how to deal with the Dursleys later. We're going to deal with one thing at a time," Sirius said, a corner of his mouth tugging upwards. "How about some dinner?" he added as they entered the Great Hall.  
  
Harry found his seat beside Ron across from Hermione and watched as Sirius and Remus made their way to the High table. Dinner was uneventful, other than the fact that Hermione kept giving Harry very strange looks. It was the look she usually gave when she had a secret she wanted to tell him. Or possibly when they were going to meet in secret. But they didn't have a meeting, and what kind of a secret could she possibly have?  
  
Half an hour later, Hermione got up before everyone else and said that she'd be in the common room studying. Harry and Ron nodded, their eyes following Hermione out of the Great Hall. She was getting stranger and stranger these days. Harry wondered if it had anything to do with the ring, or maybe the two keys?  
  
One thing was for sure: Harry knew that he couldn't possibly love Hermione more than he did at that moment. But then he had to take that back. Every time he thought that there was no possible way he could love her more, something clicked inside him, only doubling his love for her. He could only pray that she loved him just as much, or maybe even just a little. He'd be satisfied either way.  
  
It was just after 6 o'clock before Ron and Harry made their way out of the Great Hall. They had stayed back and talked some more with Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Do you suppose Hermione is better?" Ron asked as they walked towards their common room. Harry shrugged, pretending to look nonchalant, but inside he was growing nervous. Sure enough a searing pain followed the butterflies in his stomach and he doubled over, stifling a cry.  
  
"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked, placing a hand on Harry's back.  
  
"Hermione...she's in trouble," Harry gasped, feeling as though his insides were trying to escape as they twisted and writhed inside him. He had no idea this was what it felt like when the ring began to work. _Well at least it works_, Harry thought between fleeting visions in his mind. _A dark forest...dark robes…_  
  
"She's in the Forbidden Forest!" Harry cried, straightening instantly and bolting towards the main doors.  
  
"Harry, wait! I'll get Sirius and Remus!" Ron shouted after him, but the rest was lost to him as Harry sped outside towards the dark and frightening forest.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, before he had even entered the looming trees. The forest seemed to close in on him, blocking out any remaining light from the setting sun above.  
  
Harry called out her name again, his chest tightening in panic. She was in danger. He couldn't lose her! With a boost of adrenaline he followed his senses, scraping his mind for possible visions of where she could be. He caught Hermione's overall sense of fear, and he could hear her mentally call out to him.  
  
_Harry!  
  
Hermione!_  
  
"Harry!" a masculine voice called, interrupting his mental connection to Hermione. He turned to discover Remus and Sirius behind him.  
  
"I can't find Hermione," Harry choked out, groping in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, searching for the pair.  
  
"We'll find her. She's got the ring. Nothing can hurt her...yet," Remus added. They all tried to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of their stomachs as they searched for Hermione by the light of Sirius's and Remus's wands.  
  
As they delved deeper into the woods, Harry's panic increased. He knew he needed to keep a calm, clear head to deal with what was coming. But the thought of losing Hermione was like a hot knife slicing at his heart.  
  
"We're losing time...Hermione could be long gone by now," Harry growled.  
  
"She's not gone. Can you feel her?" Remus asked. Harry turned to his former professor and nodded.  
  
"I can feel a bond...I can't explain it. I know she's still alive. And she knows I'm coming for her," he said.  
  
"Hold on to that link. Don't let it go. It's the only way we're going to save her," Remus insisted.  
  
Harry nodded firmly, privately relieved that Sirius and Remus were there with him. Not a second later, he turned sharply to the scuffle and sound of a moving figure to his left. "Over there," Harry whispered.  
  
He knew it could be a chance that it was just another woodland creature, and Harry prayed it was only a unicorn. He didn't want to face anymore horrors than he already had to that night.  
  
They followed the sound and came to a clearing.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry shouted and ran to the brunette. She lay on her side on the ground with her arms outstretched. Her wand lay a few feet away from her.  
  
"She's alive," Harry whispered.  
  
"Yes. She is alive, Harry Potter. But the danger does not end here," said a gentle masculine voice.  
  
Harry turned in surprise.  
  
"Firenze," Harry said softly, turning to the centaur that had saved him five years ago, and who had successfully managed to keep Hermione's attackers away.  
  
"Just barely," answered Firenze. "You must get her out of here, before He comes back."  
  
"Voldemort is _here_..._He_ attacked Hermione?" Harry asked, struggling to remain calm. He felt Hermione stir beneath him.  
  
"Harry..." she whispered.  
  
"It was not Him," Firenze continued. "But his followers. There were half a dozen, Harry Potter. They will not stop here," Firenze informed Harry. He acknowledged the two adult wizards with a nod. They nodded back.  
  
"The forest is no place for a young lady. Or for you, Harry Potter. I'll leave you now. Be careful." And with his final departing message, he galloped deep into the forest.  
  
"Thank you, Firenze," Harry murmured, before turning all his attention to Hermione.  
  
"Hermione..." he said gently, helping her sit up. "Are you hurt?" he asked.  
  
He didn't care if he sounded too concerned. He didn't care if Sirius and Remus watched him hold Hermione in a way that only lovers did.  
  
"Harry...they were here...and you weren't..." Hermione mumbled into his shirt. Harry frowned in confusion.  
  
"What are you talking about, honey?" he asked softly, again not caring that Sirius and Remus could hear this term of endearment.  
  
"You were supposed to meet me..." Hermione sobbed. She no longer cared to put up the brave front. She knew she was strong, but at this moment she just wanted Harry to hold her.  
  
"When? I never knew anything about it," Harry said.  
  
A new fear had started to take over him now. Someone had wanted Hermione alone in the forest and had it not been for the Friendship Ring, Harry never would have known. He clenched his hand free hand into a fist, barely holding in his fury.  
  
"You never sent the letter?" she asked, now looking up at him. When he didn't respond, her eyes widened. Harry knew she had come to the very same conclusion as he had. And a second later a white-hot pain shot through his scar. He cried out, his hands clutching at his forehead. Behind him, Sirius and Remus stood alert, preparing for the worst.  
  
"Filthy Mudblood," hissed a voice. The voice was cold and seemed to echo all around them.  
  
The pain in Harry's head intensified, spreading to all the quarters of his body. The torture was unbearable--he felt like death would be a nicer alternative.  
  
"It's him," Sirius growled. All around them shadows appeared from the trees and into the clearing where the small group stood.  
  
Sirius and Remus--wands drawn--approached Harry and Hermione, ready to do battle to protect them.  
  
As the Death Eaters circled them, forming a tight circle, two of the hooded figures split apart, where another appeared, seeming to glide into the circle. The darkness of the woods shrouded this figure's face, but Harry knew who he was. As did Hermione, who suddenly went frigid beneath Harry's touch. She had never been face-to-face with Voldemort before.  
  
This very thought seemed to have occurred to Voldemort, who said, "At last we meet, Miss Granger. I've learnt quite a bit about you, through keen observation."  
  
Hermione lifted her chin up defiantly, though her grip on Harry's arm grew more fierce--almost painful.  
  
"Aren't you _above_ paying the slightest attention to _Mudbloods_?" Hermione asked him sarcastically.  
  
Voldemort didn't move or flinch, and even if his face hadn't been covered by the darkness, it would seem expressionless to the company before him.  
  
"I was informed that you were the smartest _witch_ attending that pathetic excuse for a school," Voldemort replied in a cool voice. "If you are as clever as you were made out to be, you'll know to keep your opinions and questions to yourself."  
  
Voldemort stopped speaking for a moment, regarding the two wizards-in-training with interest.  
  
"Over the years I've been thwarted by Harry far too many times--and at one point I thought it _had_ to be luck or strange coincidence. But I hardly believe in those things. Something I'm sure you understand, Hermione," Voldemort said, boring his eyes into hers. "And then I grew to understand that I was right all along. Harry wasn't lucky. Harry _isn't_ lucky."  
  
"Get to the point," Sirius snapped, drawing Voldemort's attention onto himself for the first time.  
  
Voldemort looked behind Harry and his darkened face seemed to light up with an evil glow.  
  
"I intend to, Sirius Black.  
  
"I discovered that all these years, through every encounter we've had where Harry escaped my clutches, he wasn't simply relying on his own strength or intelligence. It seems that without _you_, Hermione, Harry wouldn't be standing here as we speak."  
  
Hermione froze. So did Harry.  
  
"Time after aggravating time, Harry slipped from me unscathed and alive," Voldemort continued in his cold, hissing voice. "And then I had a thought. What if I took away that very _thing_ which keeps Harry safe and alive? If I took you away, Hermione, then it would be me versus Harry -- not me versus Harry _and_ Hermione. It's only fair, is it not? It's the way it _should_ be."  
  
"I dare you to lay a single _claw_ on her," Harry said loudly, pulling Hermione closer to him for emphasis. "And see what happens to you and your precious followers. This is one battle you can't win."  
  
"I'd very much like to know what gives you such foresight," Voldemort sneered.  
  
"I admit I've managed to escape you with Hermione's help," Harry said. "But all those other times I always faced you alone. And as you can see--I am _far_ from alone right now."  
  
Saying this, Harry turned to gaze into Hermione's face, who looked straight back into his eyes.  
  
"I am _not_ going to lose you, Hermione. I promise," Harry whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.  
  
Voldemort heaved an exaggerated sigh and raised his wand--  
  
Hermione's legs buckled beneath her and she slid to the ground, grasping at Harry for support.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, his voice hoarse with fear. Was this some trick being played on him by Voldemort? Had he performed some wordless spell on her without his knowing? That couldn't be possible. And yet...  
  
"Tell me...why," Hermione gasped, her eyes tiny slits as she struggled to keep them open.  
  
"Oh, what's happening to you..." Harry moaned, frustrated and deeply worried. Sirius and Remus kept their eyes on Voldemort and the Death Eaters, ready to strike when the time arose.  
  
It was then that Sirius realized that Voldemort was just as puzzled with this scenario as the rest of them. He seemed almost in a trance, as though he couldn't understand what he was doing.  
  
"Tell me, Harry...why..." Hermione pleaded.  
  
"Why?" Harry said, almost as puzzled as Voldemort. And then it dawned on him. And all hesitation flew away. "Because I promised I would protect you with my own life. Remember: Trust, Loyalty..." Harry fought back tears as a tiny smile crept along Hermione's face.  
  
"And...?" she whispered. Her eyes were now closed, the blissful smile still curving her lips.  
  
He touched a finger to those lips and he felt her briefly shudder.  
  
"And I love you," he said.  
  
A pleasurable sigh escaped her lips before she whispered the words he had been longing to hear his whole life, it seemed.  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
He didn't have time to react to that simple yet complicated phrase, because at that moment the Friendship Ring burst into a fresh new light, lighting up the entire clearing, up to the sky and beyond. Sirius, Remus, Voldemort and the Death Eaters stared upwards in amazement, and Harry held in a startled gasp as the light faded. But Harry suddenly realized that they were no longer alone.  
  
High above them, floating in the air, was a girl who looked even younger than Harry. She gave off a silvery ethereal glow, wearing a thin garment that looked like a night dress, which flowed about her slender figure. Her hair was silver as well (though that could have been the silver glow giving off that effect), which fell past her waist in soft waves. Her eyes, also silver, stared at the bewildered crowd below her.  
  
To Harry's surprise, the floating girl lowered herself until she was hovering a mere inch above the ground. And she turned to him and Hermione, a soft smile warming their hearts. All the darkness in Harry's life seemed to vanish with her very presence. One look into Hermione's face suggested that she felt just as free and light.  
  
"The amount of gratitude I feel towards you, Harry and Hermione, cannot be expressed with words. You have set me free," she said. It was the same soft, misty voice that had haunted Harry's dreams. "I know in my heart that there is nothing I can do or say that can equal my sincere appreciation."  
  
"The third key...it was..." Harry choked on his words. Why hadn't he seen it before?  
  
"It was Love. Trust, Loyalty and Love. You have no idea what it feels like to hear those words uttered under the most sincere, possible way," she said in the same misty voice.  
  
Harry looked down at Hermione. He could seriously doubt that she had been the only one longing to hear those words.  
  
"How did you find me?" Harry asked suddenly.  
  
"I have traveled very far and wide...across the world, looking for the pair that would set me free. Over one millennia had passed with no luck. I could not fathom how the ring I was cursed to kept falling into the wrong hands. Many lives ceased to exist by the Curse which had been placed on the Ring. And I was powerless to stop it.  
  
"One day, a young man stepped into the shop where I had been sitting and collecting dust for years. I could feel a power inside him. It was so unlike anything I had ever felt before. I knew that power could only be one thing: Love. A love so pure and in depth, I knew he had been the answer to the end of my demise. It was you, young Harry. And I had just enough strength in me to call to you and draw you _to_ me. When you purchased the Ring, I managed to send you a few dreams, to lead you and guide you. And just as I had hoped, you both discovered the three keys. I now plead with you: allow me to repay you in the only way I can," the spirit insisted.  
  
"How?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"I am no longer entrapped. No longer a slave to the powers of the ring. I was made to protect Hermione--your one and true love. I mean to keep my promise."  
  
And before Harry could protest, the floating spirit raised herself high into the air and turned to face the red-eyed Dark Lord, who now looked a little more concerned for his own safety, the look of puzzlement still frozen to his face.  
  
"You have caused this world enough pain. It ends tonight." Her silvery eyes flashed with an intense power before they slammed shut just as a powerful wind swept around her. No incantations were uttered, no spells or curses. A bright light seemed to glow from inside her, spreading outwards and around her, brighter than ever before. The light swallowed every bit of darkness around them.  
  
Harry threw himself on Hermione, protecting her from anything that could possibly go wrong. They clung to each other, though Harry kept a good eye on what was happening.  
  
One by one the Death Eaters fled the scene, unconcerned of the very threat that their master was facing death once again. Voldemort, through his puzzled trance, gave a mighty yell. He crumpled to the soft ground, his body instantly turning to dust.  
  
Harry looked up, to find that the spirit was now floating before him again.  
  
"It is over, Harry. You and Hermione have nothing to worry about. Live your lives to the fullest. Do not deny yourselves the simple pleasures that most people take for granted in life. You have everything you need now," she said softly, glancing meaningfully at Hermione.  
  
Harry nodded and looked at Hermione, a look of pure love evident on both faces.  
  
"I have you," he said to her.  
  
The secret was out, and he was no longer going to hide it. As of now, there was no reason to. Voldemort was gone. Hermione was safe. They were in love. It was all Harry had prayed for, and more.  
  
Hermione gave him a sweet smile and let Harry pull her up from the ground.  
  
"What will happen to you?" Hermione asked, speaking directly to the spirit for the first time.  
  
The spirit smiled. "I will return to where I belong among the heavens, where I will continue to watch over you, Hermione. That is my mission." she told them.  
  
"What happened to you?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"I was a princess in my era, and was a very large target for the most powerful of dark wizards and witches. One succeeded and killed me in an extra-ordinary fashion. He placed my spirit within a plain ring, and only until a pure love came upon it could I be set free. Now that I am finally free, the ring is just a ring. And it is here that I shall leave you. I will always remember you as my saviors, and will never forget the love that you both share, for I have never been given the chance to find such a love. If ever either of you need anything of me, you only need to summon me by a single thought," she said in her misty voice. "Good luck to you both." And the Ring-Spirit vanished into the night.  
  
"Well, I think she was wrong about one thing," said a voice to their right. Harry turned to find his godfather and Remus standing there.  
  
"What's that?" asked Harry, feeling more elated than he had ever felt.  
  
"You two won't need luck," Sirius said, a grin playing about his lips.  
  
Harry wheeled on his godfather, pointing an accusing finger. "You knew...you knew the entire time about us and you didn't tell me?" he hissed, though he was far from angry.  
  
Remus and Sirius laughed. "I didn't tell you? Who, exactly, kept it from _every_ living soul?" Sirius tossed back.  
  
Harry folded his arms across his chest as Hermione stepped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I think that she was wrong about another thing," Harry said as he felt her hand on him, calming him. He turned to Hermione and asked her to remove the chain around her neck.  
  
She furrowed her brows in confusion, but complied, slipping the chain from around her and handing him the silver chain. They all watched as he slipped the silver and gold ring off of the chain and he held it between is thumb and index finger.  
  
"She said this ring was just a plain old ring. It's not," he explained, and her eyes widened as he took her right hand and slipped it on the finger next to her pinky.  
  
"It's now a Promise ring. If you'll have it," he added softly, his green eyes digging deep into her own brown ones, a not-so-secret smile on his face.  
  
"Oh, Harry..." Hermione sobbed, throwing herself into his arms.  
  
There were no words right now. She only wanted him to feel how much she loved him. She had come so close, so daringly close to death, and had she not told him...he would never have known, and she didn't want to think about that. What mattered was that he _did_ know that she loved him, and what also mattered was that they no longer had to keep it to themselves. The world could know, Hermione could shout from a rooftop, and they could be really happy.  
  
These blissful thoughts rolled through her head as they all walked back through the forest, across the grounds towards the school.  
  
"You're coming to visit me this summer, right?" Harry asked, his hand entwined with Hermione's.  
  
She grinned up at him.  
  
"Wild hippogriffs couldn't stop me."  



	11. A New Life

Chapter Eleven: A New Life  
  
  
Harry's favorite thing about his new home was the fact that he _had_ one. Then there was the fact that he finally lived with his Godfather. It felt weird to him to have someone he could talk to about _any_thing on a daily basis. Having spent the better part of his life being forced to keep questions about his parents to himself, it was odd and comforting to find that Sirius found great joy in talking about his two deceased friends, James and Lily Potter.  
  
Harry also loved his four-poster. It reminded him of Hogwarts, and well... he loved Hogwarts. But at this particular moment, the thing he loved the most about living at his new home was the woman laying next to him, her whole frame pressed up against him, her head laying on his bare chest, her soft, curly brown hair tickling his cheek as her fingers gently entwined with his own.  
  
She looked up at him and the word 'Angel' instantly came to mind. She was absolutely extraordinary. And she was his, forever and always, and the best part was that their relationship was no longer a great secret. Now that Hermione was out of danger, there was no longer any reason to keep her protected. This made the couple _very_ happy.  
  
"Do you suppose..." she said as she moved her leg and gently rubbed it against his own under the covers, "that we should get dressed before Sirius returns from the Weasleys?"  
  
Harry didn't say anything for a moment as he ran his forefinger from her bare shoulder, down her torso to her hip, and up again, making the hairs on her arm rise as she shivered from the touch.  
  
"Probably," he said after much thought.  
  
Hermione giggled. "You don't sound like you're in much of a hurry."  
  
"And you are?" Harry asked, sounding appalled at the idea.  
  
Hermione gazed at him with affection. "If I could stay here until the end of time with you...under these sheets... I would."  
  
"But?" Harry pouted, weakening Hermione's resolve with every passing second.  
  
Hermione glanced over him at the alarm clock sitting on his end table.  
  
"Happy Birthday, Harry," she replied softly. It was 12:02.  
  
He smiled down at her and leaned down for a kiss. "It certainly is," he murmured before pressing his lips softly to her own. They enjoyed the softness of the kiss for a couple of minutes before pulling away.  
  
Harry was now 17. In a month's time he would be spending his last year at Hogwarts. It was a thought he didn't like to consider much.  
  
Hermione stared at her best friend and true love in her scrutinizing way. "What's wrong, Harry?"  
  
"Nothing," Harry assured her with a smile. "I'm just thinking about how much I love you."  
  
Hermione gave a sweet smile and ran a hand through his hair. She loved running her fingers through his soft, black strands.  
  
"Of course you love me," she said and lifted up her body so it was directly over his. The moonlight seeping through the window gave Hermione somewhat of an ethereal glow.  
  
She kissed him on the lips, then softly trailed kisses down his jaw line, to his neck and down to his shoulder. He moaned, knowing that she was deliberately adding to the fire that was slowly building.  
  
"Before we go any further..." he said, and she took the hint and lifted herself off of Harry. "I thought you'd like to know that Ron has known about us for months," he said.  
  
Hermione groaned. "You have to bring him up now?" she whined, but laid her head back down on the pillow. "Since when ? How did he find out?" she asked, though it wasn't really necessary to sound upset.  
  
"He's known since Easter...he saw us in the window," Harry told her.  
  
She laughed softly. "I can't believe he didn't confront us after what he saw there. Our little Ron is growing up," she said in awe.  
  
"Well...he's happy for us. I think Sirius had a talk with him. I can't believe they both knew for that amount of time and didn't say anything," Harry said in agreement.  
  
"Well...I think Sirius dropped a few hints, didn't he?" Hermione asked, grinning.  
  
"That he did," answered Harry. Then he turned to her.  
  
"Are you happy?" he asked, suddenly sounding very insecure. Hermione realized this and brought her lips quickly to his own, trying to tell him not with words, but with the determination of a passionate kiss, that she loved him and could never be happier.  
  
"Does that answer your question?" she asked. She didn't like it when he got insecure. She hated it when he thought for even a second that maybe she'd be better off with someone else, or somewhere else.  
  
"It does, love," he said.  
  
They kissed each other deeply, enjoying the sheer feeling of their closeness.  
  
"I want to give you something," Harry murmured, parting from her.  
  
"A gift?" Hermione asked eagerly, her eyes growing earnest with excitement.  
  
"Yes, sit up with me," he commanded gently, and Hermione obeyed instantly, excitement bubbling inside her and rubbing off on Harry, who no longer felt anxious or worried for giving _her_ a gift on _his_ birthday.  
  
He reached inside his bedside table, and pulled out a square, cardboard box.  
  
"What is it?" she asked, taking the package from her boy friend.  
  
"Open it," Harry suggested. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to wrap it."  
  
Hermione giggled. "Don't be ridiculous. Why are you giving me a gift on your birthday? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" she asked.  
  
Harry grinned. "I thought you already _did_ give me your birthday present."  
  
Hermione looked slightly chagrined at this statement. "Oh, yeah," she replied with shy giggle.  
  
"Go on," Harry said. "Open it."  
  
Hermione lifted open the flap of the box and pulled out a heavy wad of tissue paper. When she pulled away the wrappings, a medium sized, smooth, round snow globe was revealed before her.  
  
"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed with delight.  
  
The snow globe contained Hogwarts and the entire school grounds, including the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch, and even Hagrid's little hut. She shook the globe forcefully, and glittering flakes of snow began to fall from the cloudy sky, covering the entire school grounds in sugary icing.  
  
"It's perfect!" she squealed, and threw her arms around Harry, dropping the globe onto the sheets.  
  
"Thank you so much," she whispered, before pressing a kiss to his lips.  
  
"I saw it in Hogsmeade just before we came home before the holidays, and I just knew you had to have it. It's out of season, but I know how much you love snow," Harry told her.  
  
"It's perfect," Hermione repeated more softly. "I adore it. And I adore _you_," she said, kissing him again.  
  
"Now that's what I like to hear," grinned Harry.  
  
Giggling, the two lovers rolled together on the bed, their happy laughter echoing in their minds and in their hearts.  
  
  
The End.  
  
  


***

  
  
  
**Author's Note:** Wow! Thanks for all the support, guys. It's nice to feel loved. And just as I promised earlier, there _will_ be a sequel. It is called "Circle's Close." However, I won't begin to post that until I return from my trip. I'm going to Victoria, B.C for two wonderful, amazing, super-dooper weeks. I really need this vacation! Anyway, when I return, I promise you'll have the sequel. There will be much more involved in it. More romance, more mystery and plot, more interaction, more characters...and so on and so forth. :D Stay tuned! And thanks for putting up with me!  
  
Amour,  
  
Fae 


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